


"Broken doll"

by mynameissrain



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 59,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameissrain/pseuds/mynameissrain
Summary: "You're safe now. With me. With us. Here"Betty ran away from Riverdale months ago, living on her car, going nowhere and with barely enough money to buy food.One day, she decides that she definitely needs somewhere safe to stay... What better place to stay than surrounded by a gang?... What better way to keep herself safe than JOINING a gang?





	1. Chapter 1

_Come on Betty, after all ... It's not that bad, right? It's just a bar, like Pop's but with bikes parked at the entrance. Okay and with bikers ... And with red lights that remind me of a brothel ... And I think that that's where a man is getting high... But it's a bar as innocent as anyone! ...Right?_

Betty tried desperately to convince herself, standing before the gates of the White Wyrm. Her hair pulled back in a quick, careless high ponytail. She had managed to change in the bathroom of a nearby gas station and had stored dirty clothes in the trunk of the car.

Before her rose the White Wyrm, imposing before her, far from the innocence she tried to give to it. The red and green neon lights shone mockingly against the opaque darkness of the night sky and the music escaped through the doors as customers came out laughing, heading for the bikes.

_Anyway you need this, isn't like you have many options._ She reminded herself, eliminating any hint of doubt that could remain in it. Was she afraid? Yes, very much, but of course this was much better than going home.

_"Home" ..._ A sarcastic smile was drawn in the voice of her subconscious, keeping a private conversation with herself. She could almost hear a snort. _As if that could still be called home._

She felt a kind of cramping before clenching her fists against her stomach, feeling like she was about to throw up. She took a deep breath and made her way to the gates of the White Wyrm.

 

 

* * *

 

  
The truth is that Betty wasn't surprised with the interior of the premises: groups of men (and the some women, but wasn't a group that seemed to abound in the world of White Wyrm) were leveraged at tables, chatting, laughing or even dozing on the tables. The music was loud, too loud; Betty didn't know much about music. Not at least beyond Pop classics and some other ad song that had got into her head, but should be playing some kind of hard rock. Maybe AC / DC, Kiss or Metallica.

Betty rediscovered the meaning of the expression "feeling smaller and smaller" as she slipped between the bikers with her hands folded, holding herself up as a worthy nun would do. Her green eyes danced from one side to the other; from the stage where women with barely clothes danced in the most seductive way that Betty had never contemplated to the group of boys (younger this time, maybe around twenty) playing pool with laughter and screams of victory after certain shots. Others played darts and others sang with an advanced drunken accent.

Somehow, Betty managed to squeeze between the people to the bar, occupied by six older men. One was half asleep, head-butting. How could he sleep with this scandal?

While the waitress attended, Betty analyzed the place: the red lights seemed to be this place's signature, because they illuminated the room next to the yellow ones. The floor was made of old wood, creaked under the military boots.

Stickers decorated the walls, plaguing each corner as mold that appeared with moisture. It smelled of tobacco, whiskey and sweat. Betty wrinkled her nose uncomfortably.

Finally the girl was able to address her; She was tall, thin and had a long brown hair. She had clothes so tight that Betty was severely worried about her respiratory system. How the hell do you breathe embedded in that?

The girl gave her a check, frowning.

_I know, I have the same feeling since I crossed the Southside sign._

"Can I help you?" The girl asked, raising her voice so that she could hear her over the music and the general noise of the people.

Betty had to lean over the bar to address her.

"I'm here to apply for admission to the Serpents." Betty explained, trying to vocalize as best as possible so she could make the process easier for the waitress.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The girl smiled sideways, with irony and ... Laugh?

"Give me a second." She asked, before turning, still with her hands resting on the counter. "Toni!!!, they're looking for you." The girl turned her brown eyes back to Betty. She had a poisonous, predatory smile.

Betty, assuming it was the acclaimed Toni, fixed her eyes on a new figure that entered the scene; a small girl, thin and also submerged in the trend of leather and black. The corners of her lips arched, drawing a simple smile. She gave Betty a feline look before placing herself next to her partner, leaning against the counter with a simplicity and self-assurance that Betty envied.

"Tell me Scar." Toni said, for the first time giving name to the girl who attended Betty.

Almost as if they read her mind, they both gave her a look.

"This girl here says she wants to join the Serpents." She announced, with a defiant and serious tone.

Betty decided she loved Toni's pink ringlets. They fit positively against the caramel tone of her skin.

Toni raised an eyebrow, checking Betty in the same cheeky way her partner did. Who, by the way, was leaving her place next to the girl with pastel colored ringlets to resume her task of serving customers.

"Reina, are you lost?" Toni asked.

_A girl can't simply request to join a band of bikers with a reputation for murderers and ruthless without thinking she have escaped from the filming of aa Winnie the Pooh movie?_

Betty took a second to correct her own thinking.

_Okay, no, you can't._

"Listen, I know this is not exactly my environment, but I really want to join the Serpents ..." Betty promised. I couldn't tell if she was trying to convince herself or Toni.

Toni crossed her arms over her chest. Her hoop earrings danced with the sway of her body as she shifted the weight from one leg to the other. She sighed, looking away for seconds after returning her attention to Betty, as out of place as Marilyn Manson in an episode of My Little Pony.

"Do you really want to join?" Toni asked, still with a high tone of voice due to the bar's sound cacophony, but lowering the tone enough so that it was barely a murmur.

"I'll do whatever it takes." Betty assured.

It was a promise, a signature on an unwritten contract. She would do anything to join her band.

Toni made a slight movement with her head, asking Betty to follow her.


	2. Serpent loyalty

Jughead's eyes darkened suddenly when they met her blue irises. Betty felt something twist in her stomach.

It was him.

Like a sigh, her mind brought back images of that night. Like a flashback represented behind her eyelids.

Jughead nodded, sending a solemn look to Toni and the man who accompanied him in the room.

'Leave.' His eyes seemed to pray.

The man nodded, leaving the couch quietly, scurrying between Betty and Toni, leaving the room with her. When they left, they closed the door.

Silence, absolute silence. An uncomfortable silence, a silence of memories. A fragile silence like the porcelain itself.

"What are you doing here?" Jughead asked, his eyes fixed on her as if trying to decipher the thoughts that were processed and executed inside her mind. Although not even she was able to decipher them, sometimes.

His voice was sharp, harmful. Mortal. Warning .

Betty crossed her arms over her chest, intertwining them while raising an eyebrow and looking defiantly at the boy behind the huge table. He wore the same leather jacket and the same absurd hat. It was the same.

It was him. It was real.

"Nice to see you too. " She said, sarcastic.

Jughead snorted, looking down quickly at the floor, unlike the head, which shook it slowly. He stood up, walking slowly as he left the table, leaving it a couple of steps behind.

The silence had condensed. It was heavy and caused a dumb pain to Betty at the temples. His boots hit the floorboards, chaste and dry sounds.

"Is it your boyfriend? Has he bothered you again and you came looking for me?" Jughead asked. And despite the obvious sarcasm and gloating in his words, his voice retained a slight bit of concern. From two people who met on a dark night, long ago. Betty clenched her fists tightly, feeling the vulnerable skin rage with pain. The punishment of the flesh in exchange for emotional restraint seemed like a fair deal.

"No." Sentenced Betty. It was not an essentially safe voice, nor indeed certain. However, she weighed with the firmness of her words and perhaps that was what convinced Jughead, who watched her in silence a few steps away from her.

"I save you one night and already fall hopelessly in love with me, princess?" Jughead asked. There he was, his boastful and mischievous tone. The one he only knew how to pull out with a deep voice that made Betty shiver.

"For the love of God, how fragile is the ego of men." Betty called, rolling her eyes. "You already heard Toni: I want to join the Serpents." Sentenced.

Jughead laughed. Or coughed. Maybe a mix between both options.

"You're not going to join the Serpents," Jughead said, and it sounded the last word, but Betty loved to argue.

She raised her eyebrows, incredulous.

"Well, but that's not your decision," Betty said. Again, Jughead laughed. What was she saying that it was so funny?

"Actually, yes, that's why you're here. I'm the leader of the Serpents, I decide who joins and who doesn't." Jughead explained, leaning on the edge of the table. His light eyes danced from one point of the room to another. "Why don't you try to convince me? Who knows, maybe you have charm at all.  Tell me, why would a perfect girl like you want to hang out with people like us?" He questioned. His eyes announced challenge. "A tantrumtantrum? A revenge on daddy for not letting you go out to that concert?"

He was making fun. He was laughing at her. And worst of all is that his sarcasm produced a strange type of cardiac instability on Betty. 

"Neither is, nor will be your business." Betty said, shortening the distance between them. She walked with the same assurance as Jughead; with irony and challenge. "Look, I don't care what I have to do to join the damned gang..." She continued, facing Jughead.

He kept his face serious, icy. His eyes, however, memorized even the remotest freckle on Betty's tired face.

"But I'm going to join as my name is Elizabeth Cooper, with or without your approval, you can make this an easy step for both of us or you can tighten the rope even more ..." She threatened. The next words came out sharp and poisonous: "But believe me, I'll pull harder."

She knew that if it was not her, perhaps she would have a double-edged knife inserted into her stomach before she had finished formulating the threat. In fact, the silence and the expressionless face of the boy in front of her made her swallow, praying for being able to hide the panic that had quickly crawled up her spine, whispering, breathing in her neck.

Jughead stood up, gaining height. He was way taller than her. Betty had to raise her eyes a little to keep the eye contact.

She heard the leather protest when Jughead dug his nails into his jacket, believing that Betty didn't see him.

"Learn the rules of the Serpents, that will be your first test. Tomorrow you'll recite them all. If you fail, you'll go away." There was no sign of the kind words that Betty heard one day come out of Jughead's mouth. There was nothing left from the young laughter she thought she heard some time ago, on the other side of the door. "If you recite without problem your next test will be entrusted to you."

"Which are the-?" She began to ask Betty, in a more relaxed tone, but still firm.

"Ask Toni," Jughead said, back at his desk, eyeing documents scattered across the table.

He was giving short, simple and concise answers. He wanted her to leave. They had finished talking.

Betty nodded and left the office without adding a single word.

 

* * *

 

A Serpent never shows cowardice.

If a Serpent is killed or imprisoned, their family will be taken care of.

No Serpent stands alone.

No Serpent is left for dead.

A Serpent never betrays his own.

 In unity, there is strength.

Six simple laws, however, each with a terrible weight.

As Jughead suggested, Betty turned to Toni to find out about the rules of the Serpents. Toni insisted on helping her memorize them, so she managed to convince Betty to come with her to her trailer to be calmer.

"Betty, you must know that joining the Serpents is not temporary ..." Toni said, in a worried voice.

They were in her living room, sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them.

Toni turned out to be much nicer than Jughead ... Although that wasn't too complicated either, being honest.

"You must offer body and soul to us, for life, not that you can change your mind." She continued.

"Why do people try to convince me not to join? Is it so hard to believe that I want to be one of you?" Betty asked, offended. "I'm not made of crystal."

"Of course not Betty, but you're far from the serpent girl mold ..." Toni said.

Toni had the trailer mostly tidy, but it was still cozy.  

Of course, living in the back seat of her car, Betty would consider cozy even a zoo cell. 

"What do you mean?" Betty asked, frowning.

It was a biker gang, for the love of God, not a cult.

"I mean you have to be willing to give your life for us, because we will give it for you." Toni explained, emphasizing her promise of protection.

_Not that I appreciate my life very much, so ..._

That thought drove Betty to her wrists. She was able to suppress the urge to look down at her sleeves and climb up to make sure the marks were still there, adorning her wrists. However, she couldn't avoid recreating them in her mind; each cut, remembering the touch under the tips of her fingers.

She felt a brief sting in her chest that dragged her back to her conversation with Toni, who looked at her worriedly, waiting for an answer.

"I don't care." Betty replied calmly.

"You'll lose your friends." Toni added, arching an eyebrow.

_Friends? Like those who did not believe me when I begged their help, destroyed?_

"I'm not the most popular in the world anyway." Betty countered.

"Your family will turn their back on you ." Toni sentenced, one last time.

_Family? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA God, don't make me laugh._

"I don't have any." Betty said.

They stared at each other for a moment, barely a fraction of a minute before Toni resumed their study time.

Light came through a window behind her, casting light through her pink curls. The jacket with the emblem was resting on the back of the sofa, wearing a black low-cut tank top and a chain necklace.

"Well, from the beginning, what's the first rule?" She asked.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_A serpent never shows cowardice._

Betty couldn't believe that the laws of serpents were going to be burned on fire in her memory so quickly and with such effect.

Betty woke up breathless, her heart beating a thousand times an hour. She was suffocating, the air didn't reach her lungs.

She sat up with the same feeling as when you come to the surface of a pool to catch air. Feeling the lungs bend over themselves to find the position where the air finally arrived, panicking to discover that they didn't find such a pose.

She put her hand on her chest, panting. A curious reflex act in her opinion; We tend to take our hands to the chest ... Why? To make sure it's still there? To control it doesn't stop? Is it some kind of strange kink that possesses us of knowing the painfully slow or extremely accelerated speed in which our heart beats?

She gripped the front seat hard with her free hand, closing her eyes tightly to try to recover her calm. The blanket fell to her lap.

Again the same nightmare. Again the same feeling of anguish.

... Again him.

Ever since Betty left Riverdale she woke up with the same nightmare every night, feeling that panic was taking her prisoner.

Little by little, Betty was regaining her composure. Her breathing was controlled, and her chest stopped hurting.

She looked through the window in front of her: it was late. Surely three or four in the morning. The sun hadn't yet appeared and at the end of the street she saw the street lamps still lit, shining with weakness.

She took a quick look around; she had gone to sleep in the back seats, as usual. She threw the suitcases with clothes at the foot of the seats to sleep as comfortable as possible, within her capabilities. She had left the car radio on so she could sleep. It was playing "La vie en rose", barely in a whisper so it wouldn't cause her a headache.

She snorted, being aware that she wouldn't be able to return to sleep.

Surrendering, she pushed aside the blanket and went to the driver's seat, juggling, trying not to break her back.

She got in front of the wheel, tired. Her eyes didn't close, but she felt an evident spiritual and physical tiredness, as if she had just done the trials for a fireman.

_And where do I go now?_

She contemplated the different possibilities:

_The library? No, it'll be empty. A nightclub? I'm not a club girl in my good days, nor will be at four in the morning. A park? So lonely..._

And a light bulb went on in her head.

"Well ..." She said to herself, with a tired lift of her shoulders. "It's not the royal palace ... But I suppose it will work..."

And, with slow and tired movements, she drove to the White Wyrm, with the soft voice of Édith Piaf swearing sweet promises .

 

* * *

 

 

The streets were quietly empty. Just six silhouettes could cross Betty on her way to the White Wyrm, not to mention a small band of street cats who rummaged in the trash, fighting over the leftovers of someone's dinner. There was relative silence, and she allowed herself to lower the window of the car, with the gentle breeze caressing her hair.

Before she could realize , she was stopping the car in front of the White Wyrm's doors. It was still open, fortunately.

She pulled out a book, her wallet (just in case) and a wool jacket from her backpack.

She got out of the car, receiving a quieter version of the White Wyrm. The street was silent, like the beginning of a movie about zombies.

A couple of bikes were parked at the door, freezing in the low temperatures of the night. Betty put on her jacket and went into the bar without giving it too many laps.

 

 

As she supposed when she saw the bikes, the place was in its low hours. The girl she recognized as Scarlet was cleaning the bar with a rag.

The loud music had left the walls of the White Wyrm, and now a slower rock was coming out of the speakers. However, few talks were now seen by the tables, there were more old glories sleeping on the them or cursing their luck in a low voice.

Betty took a seat next to one of the walls, as far away from the waitress as she was from the other customers. She put her wallet on the table and held up the book, ready to read.

It was a comfortable environment: a relative silence, but accompanied by the soft songs of a guitar. If her hearing wasn't failing her, she would swear that Arctic Monkeys was playing.

_«You are such a good boy. You sleep now. Dream sweet dreams Maybe we are both dreaming. Maybe this is all a dream, and in the morning, Mommy will wake us up with milk and cookies. Then, after we eat, I will make love to her two or three times. If I can.»_

Can't catch sleep, princess?" Someone asked behind the cover of her book.

She lied it down, frowning. Who the hell dared, whoever it was, to interrupt her reading with such an absurd sentence?

At first, her blue eyes found only hands placed without too much meditation on the table, with leather sleeves. Her eyes were ascending little by little, challenging herself to find out who it was before reaching their face.

A gray cotton shirt, marked chest, an addictive smell of ink and leather, an olive skin, square shoulders and strong arms...

Their eyes met: the smoky blue of his, the pale blue of hers. A satirical smile appeared on the boy's lips, barely a sigh. His corners promised dark paths, sleepless nights, screams to the void.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." He teased, turning to his mocking and sarcastic voice.

_I swear sometimes I feel the need to take a chair and hit you with it._

"No, I couldn't sleep." She replied, before letting him know her boredom regarding his comment, rolling her eyes. "And stop calling me princess, it's annoying." She asked.

Ignoring her words, his eyes fixed on the book's cover, touching it with the tip of his index finger.

"«Life is Beautiful»?" He asked, arching an eyebrow with an ironic smile.

_Again, that damn smile of superiority again._

"Any problem with that?" Betty asked, closing the book and putting it back on the table, assuming that with Jughead there she wouldn't be able to read.

"It just surprises me." He commented, giving her a look that Betty didn't know if it was playful or mocking.

"Me reading a book about a Nazi concentration camp surprises you?" Betty asked again, frowning.

_I understand that it isn't exactly a light reading emotionally, but that doesn't detract from the lyrical elegance._

"No, that you love to hurt yourself so much." Said Jughead, innocently.

However, Betty's thoughts traveled again to the surface under her sleeves. To the relief in her arms. To the pain. To the darkness.

She swallowed, nervous.

_He doesn't know. He's talking about the book. Being generous with him and taking for granted that there's some kind of double meaning, surely he talks about Nick._

_... Nick._

Betty swallowed, looking away for a fraction of a second to compose herself. Her throat was dry and her heart hammered again in her chest.

Another impulse led her to bring her arms to her chest. The inside of her forearms facing her.

"I don't like to hurt myself." Betty said, her voice cooler than she intended. "It's just a book."

Jughead let out a dry cough, or a snort. Betty still couldn't name that.

The lights were no longer red, but yellow. They had turned off the stage and the stairs, leaving the pool table, bar and central ones on.

"Yeah, and Mozart is just a musical thread."Jughead replied, licking his lower teeth with a sarcastic smile behind his lips.

Betty wasn't one hundred percent in the conversation, it happened often. A part of her was attending to Jughead and processing her response, but another part of her was still anchored to the urgent need to check the scars under the sleeves of her coat, make sure they hadn't opened and were staining the table.

"Did you come just to tell me I'm a masochist for reading a book about Nazis?" Betty questioned, arching an eyebrow.

_Follow Dr. Smith's advice: focus on something. Something that makes you not think about the cuts. They are still there, he doesn't see them. Breathe._

"No, I came here to find out what you're doing in a seedy bar at four in the morning." Jughead explained, with a soft and worried tone. "What about your restful sleep, princess?" 

And back to the mockery.

_Try to count the stickers on the walls, that will keep you entertained._

"I told you not to call me princess." She repeated, but again barely twenty percent of her attention was in Jughead.

_No, he would notice that you look beyond him. What about listing Greek gods? Poseidon, Hades, Zeus, Aphrodite ..._

"And I've asked you a question," Jughead insisted. As he leaned over the table, a small, wavy black lock like night fell before his eyes.

_Hephaestus, Apollo, Ares ... Shit! It doesn't work._

Betty squeezed the thin layer of keratin and dead cells against the palms of her hands, dodging the fabric. She felt the nails biting the skin, the physical pain quieting the mental chaos.

"I had a nightmare, I couldn't go back to sleep and ... This is the only place I came to." She lied.

_Actually I'm terrified of being alone right now and I figured this "seedy bar" would be open._

"Do you still want to join the Serpents?" Jughead asked. His eyes looked at her under the arch of his eyebrows; humble, timid, fearful. Soft voice

"Completely." Betty said dryly, longing to resume the silence, longing to return to her book. She needed to be alone for a moment.

Jughead sighed, denying to himself. He gave Betty one last look before standing up.

"Then good luck, see you tomorrow." He said, walking away from the table, hiding again in his office, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

Betty sighed, closing her eyes, screaming with anguish behind her eyelids as she tightened her fists.


	3. Welcome home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, I'll be "restarting" this story. This time will be waaaaay better, I promise <3

"What do you have for me, sewer rat?" Malachai asked, leaning back in his rocking chair with obvious lack of interest, swinging back and forth. Two men, of the proportion of a built-in closet, stood firm and serious at his sides, like loyal golems.

Malachai amused himself by making figures with the smoke that he was expelling from his cigar.

"I've heard from FP that they have an important Blossom assignment of $ 20,000 in cocaine and $ 80000 in heroin, they'll leave in 2 days. " He spat, a satisfied smile dancing on his lips. He put his hands in his pockets, waiting for a reaction from the man on the swing.

 Malachai let out a whistle of surprise, still focused on the phantasmagorical shapes drawn by the smoke.

 "A hundred greats is an important number." He commented, nodding, happy. The curls fell over his eyes. "What time do they leave?" He asked. 

"At seven, they'll leave early." He said, looking around; the red lights reminded him of a small-time brothel a few miles beyond the first exit of the roundabout. Next to the abandoned brewery.

"I want you to delay it." Malachai ordered, sitting up on his bamboo swing, crunching the structure.

The man frowned, confused.

"And how the fuck am I supposed to do that, Malachai?" He asked. "What do you expect me to do, tie them do to a damn chair?"

Malachai stood up, walking towards him. The bodyguards followed him closely. A grotesque smile broke his face.

"You are a creative man ..." Malachai said, patting him on the face. He stood his ground. "Even if you dance with a fucking pink tutu on the grave of his fucking first pet." He mocked. The piece of pressed paper was placed between his lips, hearing the fire burn the dehydrated and crushed leaves. After loading his lungs, he took the cigar again and expelled the smoke on the man's face in front of him with a playful smile and a strong smell of vodka."Just make sure you entertain them a damn hour." He ordered. Then, Malachai left the office with the two colossal men behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

"Let's see, let's review again." Toni smiled, going back to her place on the couch next to Betty, placing the bowl of popcorn between them. Her hoop earrings shone against the sunlight that came through the trailer window. "What is the first law?" She asked, taking a handful to her mouth.

Betty licked her lips when the delicious smell of butter invaded her.

"A serpent will never show cowardice." Betty announced, bending to reach a small handful of popcorn.

Toni raised her thumbs.

"What is the second law?" She asked. Betty searched in her memory for a few seconds.

"If a serpent is killed or imprisoned, we will take care of his family in his absence." Recited Betty, victorious.

Toni clapped, chewing the popcorn.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Toni asked, once she swallowed. Betty frowned, confused. Toni interpreted it as an invitation. "What's between you and Jughead?"

Betty stopped dead in her tracks at the question, her hand full of popcorn halfway to her mouth, still open.

Again, the confusion bathed her eyes  
"Eh .... Nothing?" Betty said.

This time it was Toni who frowned.

"Sure?" She wrinkled her nose. "I mean, he seemed quite agitated when he saw you appear ..."

 Betty lowered her hand, giving up her sudden appetite for popcorn. Suddenly, she found them interesting.

"I mean, we met a while ago ... If you can call it that ..." Muttered Betty, shrugging her shoulders.

Toni raised her eyebrows, incredulous, while opening her eyes with exaggeration.

"Did you and Jughead know each other?" Toni repeated. Betty shrugged.

"He took me home to get away from ..." Betty swallowed, uncomfortable.

Toni inclined her head. "From...?" She invited to continue.

 Betty closed her eyes, feeling fear dragging behind the darkness beneath her eyelids. She started to shake. And Toni must have noticed, as she grabbed Betty by the arm to reassure her.

"Betty, it's okay, you don't have to talk about it ..." Toni tried to comfort her.

Betty sighed and opened her eyes again.

"can we...?" Betty choked back a sob. "Can we talk about this another day ...?" She asked, with a weak smile, feeling her eyes wet.

Toni watched in terror as Betty struggled not to burst into tears.

She nodded, tinkling her earrings. She made an attempt at a smile, trying to take iron out of the matter.

"Tell me at least that Jug was a gentleman ..." Toni pleaded, provoking a shameful smile on Betty.

"Maybe I wouldn't be here if he and his friends hadn't intervened ..." She confessed.

Toni smiled proudly, recovering the hunger for popcorn.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A light knock on the door prior to FP's entrance in his child's office. He was contemplating his whiskey glass almost finished. He covered his mouth with his hands, thoughtful; the fingers intertwined, leaning against the huge oak table. He was breathing heavily.

"What did the blondie want? A motorcycle trip? Maybe in the Jughead Express?" His father taunted, smiling sideways. Jughead felt his blood boil.

"Shut up, dad." He ordered, trying to keep his patience.

FP laughed, taking a seat in front of the huge oak table. He felt the body tired and lazy.

"Back to our conversation ..." He insinuated, resuming the conversation they were holding before being interrupted. Jughead buried his head between his shoulders, creating a valley between muscle and muscle. The strands (black as fear itself) slipped through his fingers.

"In two days we have to go to Riverdale to make a delivery that can save the bar's life for a while." He explained, fixing his eyes again (his mother's total inheritance) on the stooped figure of his father, slipping a defeated sigh from his lips. "You, Fangs and I will leave around seven."

FP frowned, lost. "I thought Sweet Pea was coming with us." He said, with a complicated drunken accent and a stinky scent of whiskey that had set Jughead like a marble slab on his chest.

Jughead looked away from his father, settling himself on the seat. FP smiled sideways with mockery.

"Does it have to do with the girl from before?"

Jughead sighed. "Betty had ... Problems in the past." He explained. "I'm afraid that's the reason she came back, I want her to be protected."

FP laughed, without even knowing the reason.

"Jughead, son, if you want so much sex ..." Began his father.

Jughead let out a bitter smile.

"Dad, unlike you, I see much more than a night of sex with a girl when I see her." Jughead countered, tired. "But of course, whatwhat would you know? Right now you are hardly able to spell your own name ..." He pointed out, desperate.

"Touché." FP admitted, with no embarrassment, shrugging his shoulders.

Jughead snorted wryly, pushing the chair away from the table to stand on his feet. He looked at his father from above, with sad disbelief.

"Dad, your fucking alcoholism is going to be the ruin of this bar ... And mine." He announced, before leaving him in the office and going out to the bar to announce Scar, the waitress, that he would come out to clear up; Nobody would look for him and if they did, they wouldn't find him soon.

 


	4. Good times

"WHAT IS THE FIFTH LAW !?" Sweet Pea yelled, completely ignoring the concept of personal space.

Betty took out her chest and stood on tiptoe, trying to catch up with Sweet Pea.

  
"A SERPENT NEVER BETRAYS HIS OWN !!" Betty replied, shouting with the same power to be heard over the pack of cheers and howls that rose around her, in a scandalous rush.

  
Betty had felt immensely microscopic when everyone surrounded them, and when Sweet Pea's face went from the joking intonation he had had while talking with her and Fangs, to a visual threat, a contact between panther and prey, Betty felt she was being fainting.

  
However, Betty had soon discovered it was mere yelling for yelling. Sweet Pea played to corner her to see if Betty dared to answer, and she enjoyed showing him how perfectly capable she was to do it.

  
Jughead was sitting on the bar counter, fully focused on both Betty's bodily responses and the firmness and confidence in her voice. She felt overwhelmed, how his blue eyes admiring her closely.

  
"WHAT IS THE SIXTH LAW !?" Sweet Pea, still with his tug-of-war game, not only cornered Betty, but also tripped her until she almost fell by pushing her with his chest.

  
Sweet Pea had turned around to attend the praises of his fellow serpents, turning his back on Betty.

  
_Big mistake._

  
Betty was regaining balance on Toni's arms who, annoyed and partly challenged, encouraged Betty with a simple and firm:

  
"End him."

  
Betty followed orders and stabilized, shortening the distance between herself and Sweet Pea.

  
Once at his back, caught his attention with an innocent touch for later, in response to sovereign cockiness in his face, giving him a well-deserved kick in the crotch that left him frozen.

  
The cheers died, replaced by a wounded "oooooouch" from the audience.

  
Betty, smiling victoriously and, frankly enjoying her moment of glory, walked on the badly hurt Sweet Pea, who had dropped down while sobbing on the smelly floor.

  
She smiled from above, meeting Sweet Pea's childish face with a grimace of protest.

  
"In unity there's strength." Betty replied, with a sweet, mellow and cheerful voice.

  
Sweet Pea let out a bruised and sarcastic laugh.

  
"You bitch ..." He joked.

  
Almost like an explosion, the audience was reborn in applause, exclamations and shouts, widening Betty's smile.

  
When she looked up, she saw Jughead leave his place at the bar to join Betty, passing between the serpents' euphoria with a sardonic smile dancing on his lips with impudence.

  
Toni was next to Fangs, trying to help Sweet Pea, containing more than a laugh.

  
Jughead and Betty found themselves in the mouth of the tornado that the White Wyrm had become.

  
He watched in the fiery fire blazing under the green of her eyes. She admired the majestic waves behind his.

  
They simply smiled for a moment, without saying a word.

  
Jughead raised his arm, drawing the serpents' attention, who gradually lost their voices until they had all their eyes on their king.

  
"How did you say it was the fourth law?" No serpent is left for death "?" Jughead scoffed, arching his eyebrows in false disbelief and bewilderment.

  
Betty was unable to suppress a smile.

  
"He's intact." Betty assured, wrinkling her nose and shrugging her shoulders without looking away from Jughead.

  
"No, I'm not." Sweet Pea announced, still weeping.

  
Betty let out the beginning of a laugh, stopping before anyone else noticed.

  
Jughead's smile grew for a tenth of a second. His eyebrows would arch more if it were physically possible.

  
"He's exaggerating." Betty replied.

  
"No, I'm not." Sweet Pea complained again, getting on his feet.

  
Jughead concluded the trial, making a reverent gesture that said: "let's move on to the next point."

  
The serpents laughed at the show, cheering Betty's name like a new warrior.

  
"Are you aware that you just snatched the possibility of having children from my best friend and one of my most loyal men?" Jughead asked, stepping forward. Betty, however, didn't back down with him, staying frozen in place.

  
If Jughead completely filled his lungs with air, he could brush her under the surface of his clothes. Just a shadow of presence.

  
Betty bit her lip, innocent, shrugging her shoulders.

  
"He shouldn't have tried to corner me." She explained, as if that was enough excuse.

  
Jughead stared back at her, intense and thirsty. A sarcastic and mocking smile. He was playing. He was lying. He was challenging.  
"Betty Cooper moves on to the next phase." Announced Jughead, ending the suspense in the serpents' hearts that once again cheered and celebrated the news with enthusiasm.

  
Betty opened her eyes exaggeratedly, incredulous as her jaw seemed to fall to the ground. He winked at her with an unreadable smile.

 

* * *

 

 

  
"Okay, forgetting the part where you kick me in the balls and ignoring the fact that it's MY balls you've crushed ..." Remarked Sweet Pea, provoking Betty, Jughead, Fangs and Toni's laughter. "I grant you that you've made it incredible, rainbow princess."

  
Betty rolled her eyes, laughing.

  
"Think about it in the other way, 'Pea," offered Toni, rubbing the beer mug she held with the other hand. Sweet Pea looked at her intentionally. Toni smiled mockingly: "It's the closest thing you'll feel to a woman sleeping with you." She joked.

  
Everyone laughed except Sweet Pea who, bored with the abundant jokes and the incessant reminders without grace about his masterful defeat, did nothing but imitate them with mockery and curse them under his breath.

  
Fangs and Sweet Pea were sitting together (Sweet Pea with an uncomfortable grimace), Toni behind the bar and Betty and Jughead being each other's  company.

  
"Technically Betty was right" observed Jughead, looking at her for a few seconds, before focusing on his crushed friend. "Your goal was to ask her the laws, not corner her and boast of your _**abundant**_ masculinity."

  
Betty smiled victorious when she saw that Jughead was right and turned to look at Sweet Pea, who was taking a drink of his beer.

  
"You're going to join a biker gang," he explained, licking his lips. "The softest thing that can happen to you is to get cornered, I wanted to see if you could respond to such a situation."

  
"Well?" Betty asked.

  
Sweet Pea settled on the stool with a slight moan.

  
"Test exceeded by far ..."

  
A groupal laugh responded to his comment.

  
"Hey Jughead," Toni began, drawing his attention. Jughead raised his eyebrows as he waited for her question, licking the lather of beer as he set the jug on the battered surface of the counter. "Yesterday, when Betty and I were studying the laws, the question of why Betty wanted to join the serpents and such came up."

  
Betty, recognizing almost instantly the path that Toni's question was taking, began to shake her head desperately in the most concealed way she could, opening her eyes wide and staring at her friend, who was about to bring up one of the most uncomfortable subjects with Jughead.

  
»" And the issue came up that you and Betty knew each other before ... "Toni said, with a mischievous smile, looking at Jughead.

  
_Earth swallow me._

  
Sweet Pea and Fangs were suddenly very interested in the conversation, which gave Betty an urgent desire to kick Sweet Pea again.

  
"Yeah, Jones, since when are you so confident with someone?" Sweet Pea scoffed. "I saw you during the test, man, you were about to beat me up every time I tried to intimidate her." A smile crossed the boy's face.

  
Jughead looked at Betty, asking her permission with his eyes. Permission to tell her story. Permission to talk about Nick and them.

  
Betty shrugged slightly, pressing her chin to her chest, covering her shoulders and hiding her palms between her thighs.

  
Jughead sighed and returned his attention to his friends.

  
"Indeed, I've known Betty for a while now," Jughead confessed, folding his arms across the table. "It was night and we were in Riverdale waiting for a customer Sweet Pea, Fangs, Archie and I."

  
Sweet Pea and Fangs fell silent hearing their names. Absolute silence.

  
"Then we saw a couple walking around, probably during a quiet walk, we thought." A sad smile took place on his face. "We heard the voices before seeing them, and it was precisely the image that unveiled everything." Toni frowned, leaning over the counter, paying attention to his words. "Betty and her boyfriend were walking down the street, yes, but she was anything but happy that he was following her."

  
Jughead looked at Betty, quiet. Betty returned his gaze and nodded, accepting his invitation to continue the story. She took a deep breath and resumed the story:

  
"Nick and I have been dating for a long time, in fact, I had moved in to live with him." Betty felt a chill run down her back as she spoke his name aloud. "It was difficult to live with him ... Or even to love him."

  
"Why?" Toni asked, confused.

  
"Well, he-" Betty began to answer, being interrupted by Jughead, who was staring abstractedly into the amber contents inside his beer mug.

  
"He used to abuse her." He said, in a voice that would've been flat if it wasn't loaded with real poison.

  
Betty felt herself shrinking even more.

  
He sighed, and continued with the story.

"That day we met some friends of mine in a bar to have a drink and celebrate that one of them had been admitted to a reputable university and could study his medical career, but, of course, Nick hated that I talked to any man. .. "She laughed bitterly, as if she just shared an irony with herself. "My friend took me to a quieter place and told me that he had seen bruises and traces of neck injuries and that the makeup had run out, so he asked me to please leave Nick and start from scratch, alone or with someone , but far from Nick. "

  
It was like if, somehow, a glass capsule had sealed them, oblivious to the world and the chaos at the bar. It was as if everything was absolutely silent.

  
"Nick found out and basically beat my friend until I managed to convince him to leave him alone and let us go home. I apologized to them, called emergency and followed Nick out, who continued to curse both his name and mine. "Betty swallowed, feeling her throat completely dry. "Nick wanted to go by car, but I was mad at him, so I told him I'd walk, but he followed me."

  
Betty went silent, finishing her intervention in the story. Jughead took a deep, slow breath and continued:

  
"Nick was clearly drunk," he said, pronouncing his name scornfully. "He kept yelling at her that she had betrayed him, that her friend was a son of a bitch, that he was going to kill him, that she didn't love him ..." Jughead's jaw clenched, holding back his rage. "I'm sure he had no idea we were there."

  
"Wait," Fangs interjected. "Is she the girl we defended? Betty is the girl from the fight?" He asked incredulously.

  
"What fight? What are you talking about?" Toni asked, nervous about the lack of information.

  
"The couple had drawn Jughead's attention, who asked us to pay attention to what was happening: the girl walked, enraged and ignoring the boy, while he was throwing himself at her, accusing her, shouting and insulting." Fangs explained , stunned, tying the ends while his eyes went from Betty to Jughead, both looking at their drinks. "There was a time when he called her a slut, she turned around, slapped him and he, mad, punched her one punch after another."

  
Betty felt Jughead tremble at her side. She, on the other hand, shrugged and remembered, with a cold prick in her chest, every detail of that night.

  
"That son of a bitch ..." Toni muttered. Betty judged that by the whiteness of her knuckles, if she had had a glass in her hand, she would've shattered it with sheer impotence.

  
"Fortunately they intervened." Betty added, wanting to remove the gloomy veil that had wrapped around them since Nick's name appeared. "They took care of Nick and Jughead took me home to heal me." She smiled, looking at Jughead and wishing she could find him looking at her.

  
But she could only see the defined line of his profile. His eyes still glued to the half-full jar.

  
There was a long and uncomfortable silence between them.

  
"And that's it? Not even a kiss to the hero?" Toni asked, incredulous and dissatisfied.

  
Betty felt her cheeks were so red it almost hurt.

  
"Nope, end of history. "Jughead joked with a half-sided smile glistening on his lips.

  
_But no, of course it is not over. Jughead doesn't want to talk about how you dumped him like a stray dog to stay with your boyfriend the abuser._

  
"Wow, I can't believe that the main character of Jughead's sexual fantasies was the asshole's girlfriend..." Meditated Sweet Pea, with an incredulous smile.

  
Jughead pointed an accusing finger at him. "Keep going that way and I'm kicking you out to a fertility clinic." Jughead threatened, raising an eyebrow.

  
Betty laughed, turning to look at him. He returned a vivid, hot look; honest, powerful. She felt the urgent need to gather her thighs as much as possible.

  
Act that Jughead noticed, which only managed to increase the dark shadow behind the blue of his eyes. A night ocean.

  
"Sexual fantasies?" Betty repeated, raising an eyebrow.

  
"Easy princess, I was always gentle." He promised, making her blush.

  
"You're lying." Betty accused, without thinking for half a second.

  
A sharky smile followed Jughead's shadow when he turned to give his beer a new drink, raising his eyebrows as he let out a fully intended "absolutely".

 


	5. You'll believe God is a dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I re-posted the chapter bc there's something at the end I forgot to add yesterday ^^' sorry!!!

Betty was on her way to White Wyrm the next day, around lunchtime.

Jughead told her at that time it would be practically empty, and if she wanted to talk to him or have something quietly, that would be the right time.

It was a sunny and warm day, considering that they were in full December. The withered flowers saddened the landscape.

**We don't have to talk, we don't have to dance ...**

"We don't have to smile we don't have to make friends !!" Betty sang, shaking to the music with a broad smile. "It's so nice to meet you, let's never meet again, we don't have to talk, we don't have to dance, we don't have to dance ..."

Betty looked out the window, distracted, while the player sang an enthusiastic "hell yeah, hell yeah".

It was sad to see the bare trees, in the scale of whitish grays and dark browns. The cold came through the window, throwing a pair of rebellious strands that escaped her queue. Betty felt the cold contact of the air break the skin on her cheeks.

However, as she looked back at the road, she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye that stopped her in her tracks. The sudden braking threw her against the steering wheel, saved by the safety belt.

A dog walked on the sidewalk. A golden retriever, one year old, at the most. He was almost bone-deep and trembled with cold.

Betty felt her heart break in a thousand pieces, jumping out of the car before she even knew she was running towards the animal.

_Who, in his fucking sane mind, would leave a little dog with this cold? Or at any stupid season of the year? You can't just abandon him!_

Betty knelt beside the little animal, who sat in front of her, shivering with cold, with sad and dull eyes. He was skeletal and dirty.

"Oh creature ..." Betty lamented, wrapping her arms around him and drawing his body to help him warm up. Betty felt he trembled, and it had nothing to do with the cold. "Who did this to you, little dog?" She asked, searching his gaze.

She glanced quickly at her car, standing in the middle of the road with the door wide open. Then she looked at the dog: helpless, scared and alone. A gust of air attacked them, making the dog tremble and cry under Betty's strong hug.

"We're going to take you to a warm place, okay?" She announced with a supporting smile, standing up again and guiding the dog to the car. She sat him in the passenger seat and threw over a thermal cup that she carried in the backseat once he snuggled up, still shaking from the cold. She closed the door and smiled at him, stroking his head under a curious glazed look from the golden-haired dog. "Come on, I have some friends who are willing to meet you."

 

* * *

 

 

  
"Hi Jug." Betty greeted, closely followed by the dog, drawing the attention of some other serpents that were watching, distracted, at the thin animal.

Jughead smiled sideways, looking confused at the girl.

"Betty" he breathed, kneeling in front of the dog to scratch delicately behind his ears. The dog stepped back at first, scared, but then he took confidence and let himself be done. "Who's your friend?" He asked.

  
Betty smiled at the curious and quick friendship between the dog and Jughead. That smile made them both fabled.

"I found him abandoned on the road." Betty explained, sighing, watching Jughead realize how thin he was. "I was wondering if you knew any animal protector ... Or if you could take care of him..."

Jughead got back on his feet, looking at Betty with a smile still devoted to the dog. Betty felt that something in her burned, in complete and absolute flames.

"No, unfortunately," he confessed, with a plaintive grimace. They both looked at the dog, who had sat exhausted next to her. "Can't you keep it at home until we find him somewhere to stay?" Jughead asked, smiling at her with compassion.

Betty sighed, looking at the dog again.

_Then first I'd have to find a house for myself..._

She was going to was when a long, sweet "ooooooooh" interrupted her. Both turned, curious, watching Toni approach with arms outstretched and absolute adoration for the dog that rested next to her.

"Hello Toni." Betty greeted, smiling at the kisses and hugs the girl gave to the frightened dog.

"And this cute little thing where comes from?" Toni asked in a voice that made her doubt whether she was talking to the dog or to her.

"I found him on the road, abandoned." Betty explained, looking with pity at the animal that watched, between confused and terrified, to the pink-haired girl. "I was asking Jughead if he could get him a place, but he can't ..." she said, giving the boy a sad look. "And I can't either ... They don't let me have a dog in ... In the hotel ..."

_Yes, hotel. Because, a Seat is practically a portable hotel, right? We have a very strict policy about excrement in the cup holder._

Jughead and Toni frowned at the same time, looking at Betty with stupefaction.

"Are you living in a hotel?" They asked in unison. Betty ignored the tremendously funny - and disturbing - fact.

_Well, Seat, hotel ... They're identical words, right?_

She felt the blush climb her cheeks.

"I didn't come with enough money to rent a palace ..." she joked, trying to avoid eye contact with both of them. After all, Toni was like the female personification of Jughead.

Jughead was going to open his mouth to answer when he was interrupted by Toni before even a single word could come out of his mouth.

"Not joking," Toni announced, so serious that it frightened Betty. "How did you not tell me anything? You come to live with me, I don't even know how you afford to spend half an hour in a hotel, they're terminals for bank accounts!"She complained. Betty smiled, shy, looking at the dog.

"Toni, it's olay..." Betty said, trying to reassure her.

But Toni didn't accept a no for an answer.

"No, not one more word." She ordered, with a frown that didn't give rise to reply. "You and this beautiful hairball come to live with me."

Betty smiled from ear to ear, staring at Toni incredulously, trying to decipher if she was teasing her or not. Red burned in her cheeks, smothering her.

"God, thank you very much." Betty whispered, breathless, throwing herself to embrace the pink haired girl. Toni laughed, vibrating under her embrace.

"Don't worry, blondie, the trailer was very empty anyway." Toni teased, pushing away to smile at her. Suddenly, a light bulb lit in her head when she saw Jughead's self-absorbed smile. "Hey, Jones," she called, catching his attention. Betty turned to look at him and stepped aside. "Why don't you go with Betty to the hotel and help her put everything in the car and make herself comfortable at home?" She suggested.

Betty and Jughead exchanged a quick glance, to check the other's reaction.

"Well, I have everything in the car yet." Betty explained, outraged.

"Better than better, so you have less work." She solved, walking away from them when she saw a client beckoning her to bring the bill. When she was halfway to the bar, she turned around and pointed to them both: "And let someone feed that little angel." She ordered.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Someone, at the last tables at the furthest point of the White Wyrm, watched closely the conversation between the three young kids.

_Betty, the new one. She is Jughead's weak point. She is the key to tearing him apart ...._

* * *

 

 

  
Jughead drove to Toni's trailer, with Betty as co-pilot, cradling the dog.

Once there, they began to unload the luggage, leaving it in the spare room, with the dog sitting quietly by the door.

Once they finished, Betty ran to the fridge to serve a delicious dish of sausages to the stray dog they decided to baptize as Sparkle.

Jughead rested on the dining room table, slumped on the chair.

"Thank you very much for helping me, Jughead," Betty smiled, turning her back as she finished cutting the sausages into small pieces for Sparkle. "It has been very gentlemanly."

"You haven't spent the night in any hotel, have you?" Jughead cut in, catching Betty off guard. There was no ice in his voice, but his descovery certainly didn't make him happy.

Betty smiled, embarrassed.

"In the luxurious five-star hotel Voiture Ramshackle." She joked, turning around with the plate of sausages in her hand, crouching down to serve Sparkle, who came like a bolt of lightning.

However, Jughead didn't laugh.

"What happened with Nick? You're clearly here for him." Jughead asked, standing upright in the seat.

Betty was squatting in front of Sparkle, who eagerly devoured the hearty dish. She admired with a tender smile how the little animal enjoyed his food.

_He eats and I'm submitted to this third grade ... Great._

She smiled, giving him an innocent look that didn't convince him in the least. His eyes remained fixed critical of her.

"Can't an old friend want to visit the boy who saved her life?" Betty asked with a wry smile, barely strong enough to convince herself of her own words. In fact, she didn't believe them.

Jughead let out an answer halfway between a snort and a sarcastic cough. Betty felt that she was preparing for a long and agitated discussion.

"Given our last encounter no, you can't," he snapped, furious. There was coldness in his words, despite the flat voice that spoke them. Betty felt her entire body tremble, preparing for the big explosion.

She sighed, feeling a deep and icy prick in her chest.

"The accusations one by one, Jughead ... Please ..." Betty begged, looking directly to Jughead, who held her gaze.

_I should've told you. I should've told you that going with you would have been a danger to you, that Nick would have known where to look. I should've told you that I couldn't go with you because he would look for you, because he would look for us. That's why I had to lie._

There was a long and tense silence between the two that overtook the entire trailer, intensifying the density of the atmosphere to almost suffocate them.

"I'm sorry ..." Betty muttered, her eyes lost in the soft fur of the dog. It was golden, but dirt made him look like copper; blackish and old. Jughead's eyes met hers, and they looked at each other like the first time. "I'm sorry about how everything ended up between us ... It was the last thing I wanted."

_I was afraid, real panic that something could happen to you. We're not talking about anyone, Jug ... We talk about Nick._

After another long and uncomfortable silence, Sparkle finished with his ration, sitting down to contemplate them both, waiting. His bright brown soybeans danced from him to her and from her to him.

A firm, loud bark made Betty smile.

"What's up boy?" She smiled, caressing him with enthusiasm. "What's up? "

Jughead sighed from the chair. Betty could feel his smile still on her back.

"I think this little rascal wants a bath," Jughead declared, standing up.

Sparkle looked at Jughead. Then Betty. He was panting, his tongue out and he seemed to smile at both of them.

There was a moment of absolute stillness. All paralyzed, frozen in time ... In position.

Betty and Jughead looked at each other with a smile that didn't augur good future for Sparkle.

He looked at him.

He looked at her.

_Bathroom._

_Bathroom._

_Bathroom...._

_Fuck ._

And Sparkle ran all over the trailer, fleeing like a soul chased by the devil, followed closely and between laughter by Jughead and Betty.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Around midnight, Toni came through the trailer's door, exhausted.

Betty and Jughead were slumped on the couch, Betty with her head resting on his chest, both of them with shaking and unsteady breathing and their clothes practically soaked.

Toni looked at them perplexed, with her hands on her waist and her eyebrows arched, incredulous and trying to suppress a laugh that threatened to escape.

"Can I know what the hell happened here?" She asked, reaching out with her arm around the trailer, turning on herself to see the complete chaos that surrounded her: cushions on the floor, battered sports, footprints, scattered cereals, a plate broken, clothes around her, like a ceremonial circle.

Betty and Jughead looked at her, silently. Too tired to try to apologize for the disaster.

"Sparkle was dirty." Jughead muttered, with a satisfied, perplexed, flat grin. His eyes were looking nowhere.

Toni frowned. "And?" She insisted, shrugging.

"He didn't agree with baths' policy." Betty replied, with the same look of stupefaction and wide-eyed eyes, also lost in nothingness.

Almost as if he had been waiting for the right moment, Sparkle suddenly appeared, walking calmly with Jughead's beanie on his mouth. He lay down on one of the corners where Toni's aloe vera used to be, where now there was only one overturned flowerpot and the damp earth with some toilet paper scattered on the floor. He looked at Betty and Jughead and started playing with the piece of cloth.

Toni let out a nasal laugh, putting her hand on her mouth to hide her smile in amazement. She turned to look at Betty and Jughead, who were lying defeated on the couch.

"Jughead?" She called, a hilarious smile on her lips.

"Toni?" He replied, without strength.

Toni was silent, looking at Jughead. After a few seconds, Jughead raised his head, confused by the sudden silence and looked at her with a frown.

"What is it-?" He began to say, being suddenly aware of her smile. His eyes went from her to Sparkle, who played happily with his hat. He dropped his head along with a moan of annoyance. "No, please don't ..." he pleaded, provoking an honest laugh in Toni, who crossed her arms as she watched him stand up with a face of annoyance and start to run after Sparkle, who had gotten back on his feet to run away from Jughead with his hat between his teeth.

Betty tilted her head, looking past Toni as Jughead ran after the dog desperate, pleading for a negotiation. Toni approached her, sitting next to her on the couch.

Toni smelled of cherries and roses.

"Hello, young lady." Toni greeted, smiling at her. "Have you settled yet?" She asked.

Betty nodded with a tired smile. "Jughead helped me put everything in the guest room." She explained.

Toni turned to look at the boy, trying again to hunt the dog, who ran in circles and jumped to avoid him when Jughead tried to surprise him. A mischievous smile gleamed on her face when she looked back at Betty, who was still completely hypnotized by Jughead.

"Please Sparkle, give me the hat." He prayed, squatting in front of the dog, who was holding the hat firmly. Jughead felt he was trembling at the fear of breaking the fabric. "You're a dog, it won't do you much good!" He wanted to explain.

Sparkle gave a small tug that chilled Jughead's blood.

Betty smiled at the panic reflected in Jughead's eyes and the paleness of his skin. She sat up on the couch and, with an innocent smile, gave three enthusiastic pats on her lap.

"Come here boy, come here!" She called while Toni announced that she was going to take a shower. Sparkle looked at Betty thoughtfully, then ignored Jughead and galloped to Betty, pouncing on her.

She laughed as the golden fur covered her jeans and Sparkle's tremendous weight fell on her thighs. Jughead approached her with a slow and clumsy step, letting himself fall to her side. Betty smiled and showed Sparkle her hand.

"Give me Jughead's hat, Sparkle." Betty ordered, her voice sweet but determined. The dog looked at her with puppy eyes, and Betty raised her eyebrows, incredulous as Jughead snorted a sarcastic "blackmailer." Betty insisted with her hand, finally giving up and letting it fall on her hand.

Jughead looked at her with unbelieving eyes, wide as saucers. Betty laughed at his reaction and turned to place it carefully.

When she felt his breath on her forearm, she shuddered inside, swallowing at the sudden drought in her throat. Her fingers brushed against the thick black hair as she placed the hat.

"You managed to take it back ..." Jughead murmured, surprised. Betty laughed, looking into his eyes. "Did I mention that I love you?"

Even though Betty knew that it was a love to you that she shouldn't pay attention to, something in her chest seemed to light. She felt the red run to her cheeks and she smiled.

"Only a hundred times." She teased, tearing a smile from him.

They both looked at each other in silence for a moment. Betty felt that she was suffocating, under the intense gaze of those blue mirrors that shone with their own light. Jughead repressed the urge to discover how would it feel like to kiss her.

_Kiss Me. Please, please kiss me._

"We're leaving tomorrow." Jughead confessed, realizing then (and just then) how intimately close they were to each other.

Betty looked down at his lips, correcting seconds later to look back at his eyes.

"Where?" Betty asked, in a whisper low enough that only he could hear.

"Business." He explained, trying to avoid the words "trafficker" and "drugs."

Betty nodded slowly, not taking off her bright green eyes from him.

_A little closer, just a little more and you would be kissing ..._

"Do you really have to leave?" She asked again, laughing internally at the difference between them hours before and now. There was so much to talk about, so much to explain and do ....

Jughead nodded slightly, not knowing what else to say. "It could be the only way to not end up in the street ..." he confessed.

Betty nodded slightly, accepting that maybe she wouldn't see Jughead in a few days.


	6. Dream of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠⚠DON'T YOU DARE TO READ IF YOU'RE TOO SENSIBLE⚠⚠
> 
> In this chapter, there's graphic death and really graphic pain, so please, be careful!!

Betty had forgotten how insanely placid a bed was.

After months of sleeping in the car, she had become badly used to the discomfort and lack of space, but that night slept like never before.

It wouldn't be beyond five or six in the morning. The sun was still rising, and the little light that came through the windows was whitish and wintry. Nothing to do with the pale yellow of midday.

Betty brushed something cold and hairy under the sheets, still. She smiled, recognizing the squint figure of Sparkle, who must have hidden during the night for some nightmare, cold or mere desire for company.

Feeling the mantle of sleep leave her, Betty turned, feeling embraced by the warmth of the sheets. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air and then letting it escape slowly.

Even with her eyes closed, she reached out to reach Sparkle's head and caress him, feeling the frost against her palm. Betty grimaced.

"Sparkle, you're cold ..." she whispered, pouting. "Come here with me, I'm sure that with a big hug you'll get warm..." She offered, with a sweet smile and still numb. When she saw that the animal wasn't moving,  she tried to reach him with both hands to grab him and draw him towards her.

But something wasn't right.

Betty frowned, and in less than a blink of an eye she pushed the sheets aside, breathing in an anguished "Sparkle." But, seeing him, she was paralyzed.

She remained still, frozen. Kneeling on the bed, less than a feet away from Sparkle's lifeless body. She felt the burning in her eyes, the stinging and the tremor in her lower lip. Then, a warm, wet trail traced its journey down her cheeks.

And, suddenly, it was as if a crystal broke: chaos began.

Betty screamed. Cried. Howled

A torn, torn and agonized cry that shattered her throat to the point of feeling the familiar metallic taste of blood in her mouth. But she didn't feel the pain, she didn't feel the blood, she didn't feel the heat of the wound breaking through. Only her heart felt split, with the gagged echo of a crystal splitting again and again. Like Prometheus' punishment, Betty felt as if her heart was regenerating to break apart again and again. Against the sepulchral silence of the house, it was like hearing the moan of a soul in pain, cursed to wander the mortal plane for eternity. The rest of the world seemed paralyzed, stopped in its tracks. They were only Betty and Sparkle.

It hurt It hurt like nothing; It hurt like never before. It hurt more than any beating by Nick, it hurt that any cut on her forearms hurt more than any scar on her palms. It hurt. It destroyed. It killed. Empty Betty felt as if her heart had been torn out of her chest violently, without warning or anesthesia. She felt the emptiness, she felt the absence, she felt the slow and agonizing death.

"Spark!" She sobbed, collapsing on the creature's bloody body. "Sparkle, boy look at me, it's me!" The tears were no longer merely warm, but hot and humid kisses coming from the very itself hell. They fell on Sparkle's fur, moistening it, as if he came from playing in the rain. Betty frantically pushed the animal, trying to wake him up while the red marks of the blood that stained her hands dyed his golden hair. "Sparkle no !!!"

Betty heard the closest thing to a stampede she had ever heard: the frantic movement of sheets, a fall, a race rumbling on the walls.

 

* * *

 

  
Toni slept peacefully in her bed, dressed in her pajama pants and a T-shirt a few sizes too large. The pink curls, disheveled, separated her from the pillow, tangling between her fingers.

Suddenly, a heartrending scream ripped her from her sleep, her heart a thousand times an hour.

In her years as a member of the Serpents, she had never, ever in her life, heard such an expression of pain so intimate and carnal; so broken, so shattered, so sunken. It was as if they were tearing a man's soul apart, and his last throbs of sanity showed up before the pain finished with him.

She fell silent from the bed, her body still making the effort to wake up with the same speed as her mind.

As she launched herself against the opposite wall of the corridor, leaving her room, a single thought of genuine panic occupied her mind.

_Betty._

 

* * *

 

  
Betty heard the door of her room open, sucking the air as if it had been sealed to the void; Toni was on the threshold.

Her hair was matted, still dressed in her pajamas. But her eyes showed the most alert and active sense of fear she had ever seen, and her chest rose and fell irregularly, agitated by the sudden action.

Toni's eyes looked at Betty, on her knees, like a geisha. The red eyes from so much crying, her cheeks drowned in tears. Hair mixed. 

Then, they went to her lap: Sparkle.

His thin body lay lifeless on Betty's thighs, stained with a reddish liquid. His beautiful golden fur, stained the same scarlet, blood flowed, staining the sheets.

Three bloody clean marks; three stabs. One on the ribs, one in the stomach and one last in the heart.

Toni put her hands on her mouth, feeling the tears come to her eyes. Her heart stopped, and in her head only a maddening white noise sounded.

They had killed Sparkle.

Toni ran to Betty, who was still cuddling the lifeless creature, asking his name to heaven, perhaps asking God to return Sparkle. Begging for one last hour, one last bark. She hugged Betty, trying to push Sparkle away from her stare by hiding her face against her neck, caressing her hair.

"Shhh, it's okay Betty." She whispered, trying to reassure her even though she was shaking herself. Betty was trembling. Very much. She felt under her arms the hellish effort she was making to breathe; Betty was having a nervous breakdown. "Betty," she insisted, trying to get her attention. Her green eyes, drowned in despair, admired with horror the stain of growing blood on the sheets. "Shit, Betty, come with me." She begged, scared.

Toni took her hands, both finding comfort in the trembling, finding stability in their vulnerability. She pulled her slightly, helping her to her feet and trying to not notice how Sparkle's lifeless body fell against the mattress when Betty left the bed.

She collapsed back into Toni's arms, both crying inconsolably, without the slightest attempt to suppress a single tear. Betty again begged his name, and Toni shuddered under the slab of despair in the broken prayer of her friend.

Toni took Betty's cell phone and a jacket, guiding her around the room so she wouldn't leave her alone. Both left the trailer, waiting at the door while Toni dialed a number on her phone.

They picked up the second tone.

"Toni, is everything okay?" Jughead asked on the other side. Toni knew he would be awake.

"Jughead, I need you to come" Toni tried to swallow the forced knot that had formed in her throat. Each word pushed her deeper into the abyss. "We need you to come," she corrected.

There were a few seconds of silence on the other side of the line.

"Give me two minutes." He asked before hanging up.

 

* * *

 

 

In exactly two minutes, five motorcycles invaded the trailer park. Jughead, with his particular helmet with the symbol of the crown heading the troop.

Once the bikes were parked, Jughead threw the helmet anywhere and ran to Betty and Toni, followed closely by the rest.

Betty was still crying over Toni, but now she seemed to control her breathing.

"What's wrong, what happened?" Jughead asked, nervous to see the blood on Betty's hands. When he didn't receive an answer from her, he looked at Toni, who, with glazed eyes, looked with rage somewhere beyond him.

"Sparkle." Toni said, her voice trembling. Betty broke again in tears.

Fangs, who had slipped into the trailer at some point, appeared through the door with white skin, as if he had just seen a ghost.

"What's up with Sparkle?" Jughead insisted.

"Jug-" Fangs wanted to get ahead. But Betty turned away from Toni, her eyes bloodshot and her face red from crying. Jughead felt his soul break into a thousand pieces.

"He killed him! He stabbed him , Jughead, he stabbed him and put him in my bed !!" bellowed Betty, full of fear and anger. Toni hugged Sweet Pea, allowing herself to break into tears for the first time all morning. Sweet Pea hugged her tightly, swallowing hard.

Jughead framed Betty's face with his hands to try to reassure her. She was hyperventilating again.

"Who Betty? Who did it?" He asked, lost.

"Nick!" She sobbed, grabbing his wrists to hold on while Jughead gave up and kissed her on the forehead and then pushed her into a hug.

Betty cried against his shoulder, bleating his black leather jacket in tears, collapsing against his strong grip.

Jughead gave a slight signal to his father, who nodded and entered the trailer in silence, passing by Fangs, who looked, still pale, to the ground.

Jughead felt the blood boil with rage under his skin; Someone, whoever, had entered Toni's trailer during the night while the two of them were asleep, had attacked Sparkle–a helpless dog who hadn't hurt anyone–and had put his body in Betty's bed, probably to scare her, or hurt her, or both. Because of that monster, Sparkle was dead. Because of that monster, Betty and Toni would surely have nightmares for a while. Because of that monster they no longer felt safe in their own house.

Minutes later, FP appeared again, with a bundle wrapped in a sheet with a chilling reddish seal. Everyone looked away, sunken.

Everyone, except Betty.

She managed to escape Jughead's incessant attempts to keep her from him, running to FP, who stopped short when Betty put her hands on the sheet, feeling Sparkle's soft body. Praying for feeling him breathe.

"Sparkle ..." she whispered, with a faint smile, calling him like the mother who wakes her children for a snack. "Hey, little doggie, I know you hear me ..." Toni cried against Sweet Pea's shoulder, who had stopped trying to hold back the tears, just like Fangs. Jughead was a few steps away from Betty, silent, with red eyes. "Sparkle ..." She tried again. "Come on, buddy, let's go for a walk!" Betty found the open hole in the sheet, finding Sparkle's head: eyes closed, calm. He seemed to be sleeping.

"Betty ..." Jughead whispered, his voice completely broken, hoarse. He felt the knot suffocate him as he tried to speak.

**[Song: "Dream lf me" by Abbey Glover]**

"It's like I'm in the evening / And just like me / The sun is falling asleep" began to sing Betty, with trembling voice, caressing Sparkle's fur. "The sun is falling asleep / I lasted till midnight / Then I was out just like / Turning out the lights / Turning out the lights."

The trailer park was in absolute silence except for the sobs of the young people, who consoled each other on dawn's eve. Betty continued singing, barely in a whisper, with the last strength she had left.  
   
 _Then I dreamed a dream of you_  
 _And I hope you're dreaming of me too._

Betty was dedicating her last emotions to Sparkle before an absolute cold emotional anorexia.

_I don't care if it's a nightmare, baby_   
_I don't care if it's a daydream, honey_   
_As long as your mind is flooded with thoughts of me_   
_I want it to last a life time, darling_   
_I want to never stop thinking_   
_About me, me_   
_About me_

Jughead silently admired that morning's tragic painting: Sweet Pea and Toni crying at each other, Fangs looking at the ground, defeated, wanting to see the emotions in Betty's promises instead of seeing with his eyes.

_Dream a little dream of me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_

His dad, with the innocent Sparkle in his arms, stood firm against a shattered Betty, without even tearing at his knees, trying to repress the emotion.

_Woke up this morning_   
_And I was still thinking about you_   
_Thinking how wild I'd make you feel_   
_If you were here too_

Archie, whom they had completely forgotten, admired silently from a distance, without interrupting the painfully intimate moment.

_My imaginations so crazy_   
_Nearly as crazy as you about me_   
_You love the way my mind works_   
_And you can't get enough of it_   
_No, you can't get enough of it_

Betty sang, tears sliding down her cheeks without respite, while she smiled with sadness and false hope at the thin dog.

  
_Then I dreamed a dream of you_   
_And I hope you're dreaming of me too_

  
_I don't care if it's a nightmare, baby_   
_I don't care if it's a daydream, honey_   
_As long as your mind is flooded with thoughts of me_   
_I want it to last a life time, darling_   
_I want to never stop thinking_   
_About me, me_   
_About me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_

  
_If you want you can think dirty, baby_   
_If you want you can think sweet_   
_I don't really care what the thoughts are_   
_As long as they're about me_   
_If you want you can think dirty, baby_   
_If you want you can think sweet_   
_I don't really care what the thoughts are_   
_As long as they're about me_

"I don't care if it's a nightmare, baby / I don't care if it's a daydream, honey / As long as your mind is flooded with thoughts of me." Jughead took a step forward, trying to not break the painful scene, feeling the urge to hold Betty and hold her tightly, to merge together, to share her pain.

_I want it to last a life time, darling_   
_I want to never stop thinking_   
_About me, me_   
_About me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_   
_Dream a little dream of me_

Betty was losing her voice little by little, and her caresses were slowly stopping. Jughead took another step, already next to her, and placed a hand on her back to comfort her.

_I don't care if it's a nightmare, baby_   
_I don't care if it's a daydream, honey_   
_As long as your mind is flooded with thoughts of me_

"I want it to last a life time, darling / I want you to never stop thinking / About me, me." She sang, and when she went silent, everything felt naked and empty.

Jughead cradled Betty again in a hug, who was already trembling, but nothing remained of the disconsolate crying.

_She had truly emptied herself in that lullaby ..._

He made a new indication to his father, ordering him to take Sparkle from there. Minutes later, Jughead pulled away to look at Sweet Pea.

"Sweet Pea, I need you to stay here, taking care of them," said Jughead, looking at his friend. Sweet Pea nodded firmly. "They'll sleep with you until Fangs, my dad and I come back, I'll think of a place where they can stay and be watched ..."

"Jughead, I can defend myself." Toni spat, still with tears wetting her cheeks.

"I know Toni, but some sociopath has sneaked into your trailer and murdered Sparkle to ride a parody of The Godfather here," Jughead explained, feeling Betty shrink at the mention of the dog. "I have to go a few days and I don't want you to be unprotected, so you will stay at Sweet Pea's house."

Jughead turned to look at Betty, all trembling and expressionless. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, wiping away her tears. But Betty didn't flinch.

"I'll be back, I promise," Jughead whispered, his forehead on hers.

They then returned to the bikes, taking one last look before leaving Sweet Pea, Toni and Betty alone in the trailer park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to explain that I'm in love with animals, so, before you come at me to yell at me for killing Sparkle, I'll say that I cried writing this bc I love animals more than anything.


	7. Skin and bone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MENTION OF SELF HARM!!! BE CAREFUL :(

Betty was sobbing alone in the room, in silence. The moon's light passed through the window, revealing the small silver piece between her fingers. Blood poured from her skin, slow, warm; burning, in fact. Her body vibrated as tears slid down her cheeks. And she sang.

 _I'm so tired of not feeling anything_  
_So tired of feeling so empty_  
_Where did everything go wrong_  
_As wrong as I've always been treated before?_  
_When all I ever really wanted_  
_Was to love and be loved in return_  
_But I_

  
_I've lost my key and now I can not let anyone in_  
_And I'm trying so hard to find it_  
_But every key that I find, it does not fit_  
_And this house is so full and messy_  
_This house I call my head_  
_And I'm trying so hard to find it_  
_But letting you in is the hardest part_

_I felt the emptiness hug her, while looking at the door, closed, breathing fast._

Something in the depths of her instincts waited for Nick to burst into the room and drag her back to Riverdale.

_Nobody's going to save you, Betty. It doesn't matter how much you run, it doesn't matter who you hide with ... Nick will find you sooner or later, and nobody will save you from your destiny._

 

* * *

 

 

Malachai was furious. Immensely furious.

"I ASKED YOU A FUCKING THING, PIECE OF SCORING ... AND NOT EVEN THAT YOU GOT TO DO !!!" Malachai yelled, pushing the coffee table away from a bad kick, throwing it against the wall.

The man swallowed, nervous.

"Malachai, I did everything-"

"IT IS NOT ENOUGH !!" Malachai interrupted him, furious, throwing things.

The man looked at his hands, tortured, feeling the blood running through them despite having washed them repeatedly. He still heard the cries of the poor animal in its last moments of life.

_What isn't enough? I snuck into her house, stabbed the poor dog and put him in the fucking bed. Even I have had nightmares about that._

"Jughead and his troop arrived in time for the fucking delivery," Malachai muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "YOUR ONLY TASK WAS TO AVOID THAT , YOU ASSHOLE."

The man felt he was shrinking.

_You fucked up, man._

 

* * *

 

  
The days passed, one after the other. A week, since Jughead, Fangs, FP, Archie and others went to that mysterious mission. Today they returned. Today they returned home.

Things hadn't changed much there: Toni was recovering, every day better with  Sweet Pea's help. Sometimes she was awakened by a nightmare or frightened by the most innocent of noises, but she was much better than Betty.

_Betty._

Sweet Pea didn't think it possible to have ever seen such abandonment. It was like watching how slowly life leaked from her body, it was a painful and detailed image.

Betty barely ate, didn't sleep and something in his instinct told him that she had new marks decorating her forearm. But Sweet Pea couldn't swear on the cover of a Bible–her arm was always bandaged meticulously.

"Can I help you with the food, 'Pea?" Toni asked with a smile. He nodded, stepping aside to make room for her next to the cutting board. "What's there to eat?" She asked innocently.

Sweet Pea was focused on watching the meat so it wouldn't run out and stay dry.

"Steak with rice and chips." He answered, catching the victorious smile of his friend.

Silence reigned in the kitchen; not an uncomfortable one, but perfectly synchronized. Each one attentive to its precise task, attentive to their movements. It was a comfortable shared silence.

"Betty has gotten worse ..." Toni muttered, her dark eyes lost in the potatoes as the knife hit the wood when cutting. "She has returned to self-harm ...."

Sweet Pea dropped his head between his shoulders, defeated and sunk.

"I knew she was still doing it ..." He cursed himself, letting out a long sigh. "She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't talk ... She just cries and sings in her room."

Toni felt her throat swell as she tried to swallow.

"She sings to Sparkle," she whispered. Not because she wanted to whisper, but because she felt that suddenly she didn't have the strength to speak louder.

Sweet Pea sighed. He was going to answer when something vibrated in his front pocket; one, two and three times. He rescued his phone from his pocket, unlocking it to read Jughead.

**_We've just arrived. We need to talk._ **

  
**_There will be a meeting this afternoon at six._ **

  
**_I'm on my way to your apartment. I'm picking Betty up, I doubt it's easy to keep three people. How's Toni going?_ **

Sweet Pea growled.

"Shit," he cursed, drawing the attention of his pink-haired friend.

"What's wrong?" Toni asked, the worry palpable in her voice.

"They're back, there's a meeting today afternoon ..." He frowned, replacing the phone. "... Jughead will come to pick up Betty."

 

* * *

 

  
**_Meeting? That sounds like problems to me. Jug, everything alright?_**

  
**_Toni is fine, improving. She still wakes up with nightmares and finds it difficult to sleep, but ... She's better._ **

Within what fit, that was good news.

Had been, definitely, a crazy week.

And yet, his head was completely lost in something else ...

_Betty._

Sweet Pea had, of course, hidden a good deal of information when Jughead had asked about her and Toni. He had asked him if Betty ate, if she slept, if she had said anything.

According to Sweet Pea, she didn't speak for the first few days, no matter how hard he tried to start a conversation. She was simply sitting on the couch, rigid, her eyes lost and Toni's arms wrapped around her. Then, at night, they would have heard her cry and pray the name of the shattered dog, tormented in her own dreams by the horrifying animal's bloody image.

Jughead felt a slab of pure iron on his chest every time they told him how much Betty was suffering (even though it was much less of the truth than Sweet Pea thought he had made him believe), and maybe that was the reason why They hid part of the truth with soft lies.

But he couldn't help but worry about Betty. He couldn't control his desire to put himself between her and the world and make a shield for everyone or everything which intended to harm her. He only wished he could take part of her pain, even if it was only a little ...

Jughead made three firm knocks at the door named 345. The hall was silent, and it didn't take long to hear the familiar military boots on the other side of the door.

"Jughead," Sweet Pea greeted, a shark grin dancing on his lips. "Blessed are my eyes, and I thought you couldn't be uglier." He joked, stepping aside to invite him in.

Jughead smiled sideways, crossing the threshold of the door, giving Sweet Pea a pat on the shoulder as he passed by.

"You wish you could be half as attractive as my ass, jerk." Jughead fired back, with a satirical smile.

He could see Toni smiling at him from the kitchen door, wiping her hands with a rag.

"Toni," he mumbled, nodding in greeting. "I'm glad to see you. "

"Jones"She greeted back. Both kept their distance, intoxicated by the social classic of "bros don't give hugs or express their emotions". "Oh, fuck you, come here to give me a hug, asshole." Toni ordered, approaching him with outstretched arms.

Her comment took an honest laugh, obeying and approaching her for both to be in a fraternal embrace.

Toni smelled of cherries, perfume and roses. Jughead smelled of leather and ink.

They pushed away a few seconds later.

"Betty is in Sweet Pea's room," she said, deciphering Jughead's uncomfortable expression. Toni tilted her head, indicating the path.

Jughead, with a serious face, nodded. He knew he wouldn't have the same welcome from Betty. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and started to make his way to Sweet Pea's room when his friend stopped him.

"Jughead." He called him. His blue eyes analyzed the concern on his friend's face. "I've lied to you," he confessed, speaking slowly.

A sad smile filled Jughead's face. "I know, 'Pea, don't look for work as a politician." He joked.

"Jug." Toni insisted. When he looked at her, he saw pleading in her eyes, wet. He couldn't tell at what point Toni had started crying.

"Betty's worse." He continued, regaining his friend's attention. Jughead felt his throat close. "She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't say a single word, and ..." Sweet Pea was speechless.

"And what, Sweet Pea?" Jughead asked, his voice hoarse.

Toni looked away, feeling the emotion overwhelm her. Nobody said a single word.

"Jughead ..." Sweet Pea looked him directly in the eyes; the brown faced the blue. "Betty is hurting herself..." Jughead swallowed hard, feeling the familiar sting in his eyes. "I saw her the other night, I don't know how long she's been doing it, but ... There were old scars ... I tried to take everything that could hurt her but–"

"She's hurting herself, 'Pea" He interrupted him, he gave his friend a pat of consolation, walking away from them to go to the room. "Thanks for the help, guys ..."

 

* * *

 

 

_Knock Knock knock_

Betty looked up slowly, trembling, when she heard the military boots on the other side of the door.

It opened, letting in the light from the other side. Betty had to squint to adjust to it, she had spent whole days in the dark.

But she recognized the figure immediately.

"J-Jughead ...?" She asked. Her voice was scratchy and her throat hurt from crying.

He shortened the distance between them with small strides, putting himself at her height; Betty could see the sad gleam in his eyes, the worry in his lips and the pain in his fingertips, caressing the dry trail of tears on her cheeks with his thumbs.

If Jughead felt that it hurt before, now he was devastated: dark circles, red eyes, trembling lips. Betty was in ruins, like the ancient and beautiful Rome, reducing the magnitude of the most beautiful story to the ashes.

Betty allowed herself to close her eyes and enjoy the warmth and softness of his hands.

"Hey Betts," he greeted, a soft smile, barely a whisper. It was an intimate conversation, theirs. Betty felt something light inside her, something throbbing for the first time in a long time. The heartbeat of a volcano. "How are you? "

Betty felt herself stifling an ironic laugh.

 _Shattered falls short_.

"Do you want us to go home?" He asked, looking her straight in the eyes.

  _Home._

  
"What does" home "mean?" She shot back, her voice trembling and weak. Betty felt that she fainted, the fear and the little care that she has had with herself this last week taking its toll.

 _Nowhere, you can't go anywhere because you don't have a home, you are a coward who fled from her problems instead of trying to confront them_.

Jughead slid his fingers through her golden, soft mane, slowly, carefully.

"Wherever you ask me," he whispered, and Betty felt the red invade her cheeks, burning.

_Your apartment. Please, let's go to your apartment. Don't go again._


	8. Healing memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is short as it can be but... I can only say sorry :(

Jughead openedhis apartment's door, Betty beside him, in silence.

As he opened it, a soft icy whisper brushed Betty's skin, making it crawl. The light was weak and vulnerable through the blinds.

"Do you want to eat something?" Jughead asked, turning to look at her as he exchanged the only suitcase that Betty had taken to Sweet Pea's house on his shoulder, entering the apartment.

Betty blushed, looking down. Did Jughead know that she hadn't eaten in the last few days?

Betty put her hands to her stomach, feeling the boy's blue eyes on her, analyzing her bony body, and maybe looking for some other trace of abuse–the cuts.

"I ..." Betty whispered, her voice brittle and hurt.

Betty entered stealthily, feeling a real stranger in the pristine apartment: there were bookshelves everywhere loaded with books, notes pinned to the wall with thumbtacks, writings with fine and careless writing.

Jughead offered her a seat in the old-looking leather seat in front of the television. Betty sat quietly, her hands clasped in her lap.

"No ... I'm not hungry." Betty replied to an empty room. Jughead had gone to leave the suitcase in the guest room, just as he had promised on the way to his apartment in the car.

He returned seconds later.

"Come Betts ..." Jughead scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Please, try to eat even a bit ..."

Betty looked down, embarrassed, pressing her forearms against her body, feeling the urgent need to feel any physical act of presence, however slight.

She looked into his eyes, swallowing with difficulty.

This wasn't the first time he had begged her ...

_"Betty, please leave Nick and come with me ..." Jughead prayed, a hopeful smile decorating his face. A terrified brightness, but alive._

_Betty felt her heart breaking into a thousand pieces._

_Oh Juggie, I can't, he will kill you if I do ..._

_"Jughead, enough." Betty ordered. "This is not Cinderella, let's stop pretending it is."_

 

"Betty" he breathed, realizing how she seemed to have been dragged to some dark place in her memory. The shadows in the blue of her eyes, the sudden pallor of her skin. He stared at her, her eyes crystalline, watery. Her eyelids began to redden. "Talk to me." He took a seat beside her, clasping her hands in both of his. Betty closed her eyes, relaxing, leaving the darkness in the back of her head to dissolve for a few seconds. "Please tell me what's on your mind ..."

She breathed deeply tremblingly, repeating the same mantra over and over again: " _hold it together, don't fall apart, hold it"_

When she opened her eyes, she saw the worry in Jughead's frown. Something in her smiled delicately: _I knew he couldn't always hate myself for staying with Nick ...._

"When I lived with Nick" she began, and despite having been speaking seconds before, suddenly had a hoarse voice, "it was a harmful relationship on both sides" she explained "and I don't mean that I put a single finger on him ... I wish, but ... I was always the focus of the damage ... "

Without uttering any of the words, Betty rolled up her sleeves, revealing the thin white cloth that hugged her forearms. Betty felt her heart pop out of her mouth.

Jughead swallowed; Betty grabbed the end of the fabric of her right arm and began to unwrap it awkwardly, drowned in her own nerves. Slowly, the vulnerable pink color of the scars with its famous relief began to emerge, like the tabby skin of the enormous cat.

Jughead felt his throat close.

"Betty-"  Jughead breathed, halfway to assuring her that they were war marks, when he was interrupted by her:

"Do you know the saying 'I'd rather die standing than live on my knees'?" She asked. Her eyes burned with a furious slow fire. Jughead nodded, holding her gaze. "I couldn't stand the idea of dying at the hands of such a monster, Jug..." Betty explained, and there seemed to be despair hidden in her voice. "I didn't want him to also have power over my death, just as he had over my life ..."

_Since he took away my freedom during my living time, I didn't want the freedom of my death to also become his decission..._

Her eyes went down to the exposed skin of her forearms; his thumbs caressed the irregular surface with affection and delicacy. Betty didn't feel the instinct to move away from him.

"When I woke up with Sparkle dead, my first thought was -"

"Nick," interrupted Jughead. Betty nodded slowly, silently. "It wasn't Nick," said Jughead.

Betty sighed, sinking her shoulders. Jughead didn't understand it.

"Jughead, I know you want to help me, but-"

"Betty, it wasn't him," Jughead insisted.

And finally, something in the seriousness and rawness in Jughead's voice petrified her, halfway between panic and relief.

"H-how do you know?" Betty stammered.

Jughead took a deep breath.

"When we were going to the place of delivery of the product, we passed next to Nick's house" began to explain Jughead. This could end very well, or very badly. "I wanted to get closer, but we were a little late, and the next morning, I told Fangs to come and tell four things to Nick." Jughead stopped to look askance at Betty, who was absolutely silent, attentive, with the Lost look. "The house was totally empty, but ..."

Jughead lost his voice. He didn't know how she could react knowing the hard week that Betty had just passed and from which she hadn't yet recovered. Betty, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow inviting him to continue.

"But?" Betty insisted.

Jughead took a deep breath.

"We met his neighbor in front of his house..." Jughead searched her eyes with his eyes, feeling the panic invade him until they finally met. "Betty, Nick was admitted to the hospital two days ago ... He's still there, in fact. Someone hit him with the car while he was drunk. He hasn't awakened yet."


	9. Home new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm sooo offline, and I'm truly sorry for it. This week I'm hella busy with exams and stuff, plus Luke's death really sent me to a dark place, at least, for some time. I'm trying to keep myself busy to not get really deep into that darkness again, but I'm still working on it.
> 
> Hope you guys haven't forgotten about me!!!

Maybe it was the work of tiredness, maybe knowing that Nick was hospitalized and the tranquility that brought to Betty, but the truth is, that fell deeply asleep in the arms of Jughead.

  
Once he took her to the guest room and put her to bed and wrapped her up, he slipped out of the room and prepared to leave the apartment to join the rest of the Serpents.

  
[...]

  
"Gentlemen, I am afraid there is a spy among us," announced Jughead to the room full of men and women.

  
A wall of whispers and glances rose, cheeky.

  
"That's a serious accusation, Jones," Tallboy said, leaning on the long, gleaming table. "Do you have evidence?"

  
Jughead took a seat in front of the conference table, letting out a long sigh of exasperation. He clasped his hands in front of him, forming a kind of barrier, admiring the pattern of fingers.

  
"Yes, Tallboy I have evidence" he confessed, with a fiery look in the blue of his eyes. "When we arrived at the Blossoms' house, the Ghoulies were already stealing from us." He looked at each and every one of the mute faces of his companions.

  
Toni raised an eyebrow "Jones, the Ghoulies have been trying to steal us for years, it's one of the reasons why the Serpents and the Ghoulies are at war." He explained, casting a quick glance at Sweet Pea for support, receiving A nod in response.

  
"That only raises the doubt in me about how long we have a snitch." Jughead muttered, with a cold alert tone.

  
FP sighed, now taking a role in the conversation.

  
"Although indeed, this accusation is very serious, I agree with Jughead" announced the man, running his hands over his face, a reflex to clear his mind and stay awake. "There's a snitch between us ..."

  
Sky, looking away indifferently and swaying in her seat with a clear declaration of war to her leader, smiled cheekily. Her white extensions with black details hugging them swayed back and forth, clinking her black earrings like the darkness in her eyes.

  
"And what proof do you have that there's a snitch, huh?" She questioned, looking down on Jughead with disdain. He returned the gesture with a paralyzing look that propagated a pure and authentic poison that silenced the Serpents as they became aware of it.

  
"That Malachai said" You lying serpent bitch "" He sentenced.

 

* * *

 

 

Betty woke up alone in Jughead's apartment.

  
Silence, the most absolute and hurtful silence.

  
At first he had panicked, thinking of all the possible nightmares that might have come to life: Nick had found his whereabouts, Jughead had gone to kill him, it had all been a sweet and torturous dream and had never really gone , ... And so a long and dizzying list of etceteras.

  
But as soon as she managed to take control over regaining control over her heart rate, she whispered to herself, in that reassuring voice her mother used to use when she made her cry as a child in the panic of darkness: She had a meeting with the Serpents, quiet Everything is fine, you are safe.

  
Betty stretched, dropping the red-and-black plaid blanket that Jughead had probably placed on her while she slept. He rubbed his eyes lazily, adjusting to the light coming through the window; blindingly powerful.

  
Looking around, confused, she realized that a note rested with her name in a thin, careless handwriting on the coffee table in front of her. Curious, she reached out and pulled her toward her:

  
**Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.**

  
_Okay, I have to admit that that, for some reason, made him smile a little._

  
She could imagine Jughead standing in front of her, with a raised eyebrow, his characteristic military boots, and the thick strands of black hair as the coal itself, repressed under the beanie's fabric, which was almost part of him.

  
**I have to go to a Serpent meeting. I wanted to warn you, but you were so cute snoring in your sweet dreams, that I couldn't wake you up.**

  
Betty frowned: _I don't snore!_

  
**Please, feel at home. You have your clothes in the guest room and in the fridge you have milk, some vegetables, beers, bread, cheese, sausages, eggs and ham. Help yourself.**

**I'll try to come back as soon as possible, but I don't think it'll last more than a couple of hours.**

**With a love that's not cheesy and totally masculine,**

**Jughead.**

 

 

Betty left the note on her lap, refocusing on the physical existence of the apartment, wondering how she could keep herself busy while Jughead was at the meeting.

  
Looking at herself, she realized the urgency with which she needed a shower, letting go of all the stress and anguish she had accumulated in these recent days, since the baths that Sweet Pea and Toni had insisted on preparing hadn't helped.

  
She stood up, carefully placing the blanket on the couch before it fell to the floor, and walked down the small corridor that, she supposed, would lead to the rooms.

  
It was quiet the silence that had settled in the apartment. It wasn't the overwhelming silence of her room at Sweet Pea's house, which was like a cruel mockery of the chaos that was developing in her head, like firecrackers exploding inside her during the Chinese New Year. Betty liked to hear the muffled sound of her footsteps against the floorboards, and the rustling of her clothes when they touched in every step. She felt lonely, isolated, but in the most human and pleasant sense of expression.

  
Betty entered, guided by her instinct, to the first room she saw, on the right. Fortunately finding her suitcase with her clothes resting, without opening, on the bed.

  
It was a small room, compared to what she had as a child until she left her parents' house when she turned 18. But, nevertheless, it seemed infinitely more comfortable.

  
A bed with clean white sheets with a willow wood nightstand resting next to it, a window through which light entered parallel to it, and next to the window, a wardrobe embedded in the wall with enough hangers to cover Paris Hilton's wardrobe.

  
Betty walked to the bed, opening the suitcase to discover that, as she feared, she had already used most of her clothes, and urgently needed a wash. With a grimace, she began to take the clothes out of the suitcase, dividing it between the ones that urgently needed a wash and the ones she had already washed at Toni's house or hadn't used yet . Discovering that she didn't have a single simple shirt to wear. She huffed, frustrated.

  
_And now that? I mean, if I took Jughead's constant flirting seriously, I could assume he wouldn't mind walking in bra and jeans (or even less) around the house, but I'm sure there would come a time when it would become painfully uncomfortable._

  
In desperation, she picked up the laundry and headed to the kitchen to put it in the washing machine when, almost instinctively, she stopped in front of the door of Jughead's room, imposingly closed.

Betty smiled to herself.

  
_For some reason, I expected to see a typical bad boy teenager and find his door with a classic collection of stickers with messages like "don't disturb", "watch out for the dog", "stop" and "the day you know how to spell intellect, you call me"._

  
She bit her lip, debating whether it was right or not to invade in such a way the privacy of someone who had offered her his home and protection. Temptation consumed her inside.

  
_I mean ... I don't think he's going to cross the door right now ... Right? Besides, I could borrow a shirt, I'm sure he doesn't care ... Right?_

  
She grabbed the doorknob with one hand, still holding the pile of dirty clothes under her other arm. She opened the door, and let the light coming through the window hug her.

  
_This has the signature of Jughead Jones everywhere._  She smiled.

  
A red and black flag reigned in his room, on his bed's headboard. There were two large shelves, a desk, an old typewriter, and newspapers and old-looking notebooks scattered about the room. Piles and stacks of books accumulated at the desk's foot, also loaded with books.

  
Betty frowned at the flag, wondering what it would represent. She knew those colors of her parents' lingering threats to not approach anyone who showed those colors with pride, but being frank, Betty was completely certain that Jughead would be the last person in this world with the intention of causing her any harm.

  
She focused her attention on the bookstores, being concrete, the closest to the left. She reviewed one by one the titles, covers and spines, finding a few that caught her attention: " _The Slavery of Our Times_ ", " _Anarchism: A Collection of Revolutionary Writings_ " and " _Quiet Rumors: An Anarcha-Feminist Reader_ ". Red and black predominated with elegance.

  
_So that means ..._   _That Jughead is an anarchist ..._

  
Betty moved away from the bookshelf to locate the closet, smiling to herself at the adrenaline that possessed her at the thought of Jughead's clothes. 

Betty couldn't tell what had given her such tranquility and security in herself; Maybe it was the so needed rest, maybe the peace of mind that arrived when she found out that Nick was hospitalized and unconscious in a hospital, away from her, or maybe knowing that Jughead would protect her, but she felt how slowly the version of her who had dozed during his stay at Sweet Pea's house was growing . A feeling of comfort and familiar warmth. Jughead was known, after all.

She opened the closet, smiling at a collection of repeated t-shirts in different shades of dark with the silhouette of an "S" stamped in the center, suggestive. Betty wondered if he had done them himself, and if the "S" was a symbol of "Serpents." In the closet there were also some elegant shirts, a suit jacket, pants, flannels and several jackets.

  
A flashback approached her, without even giving her time to get prepared:

 

 

  
_"I'm cold, Jughead!" Betty roared, enraged, as she hugged herself, shivering._

  
_Jughead laughed, following her out of the lake, shaking by her side as she growled and hit him with rage, but unintentionally. Her hair was matted by water, and crystalline drops  were falling  from her lashes; It was like seeing the trail of rain framed in a spider's web._

  
_It was a sunny spring day, hot. The sun was shining high in the sky and Jughead had shown up that morning at Betty's house once she had assured him that Nick had gone out to spend the day at the bar. Betty had greeted him with a broad, glistening smile, jumping with joy at the sight of him._

  
_Jughead was going to turn around to continue teasing her, when he noticed the purple breaking in her left eye as the makeup dripped from her skin. He felt he was frozen, and not because of the low temperature of the water._

  
_"How didn't you tell me that the water was freezing?" She complained. She wrinkled her hair with a grimace of annoyance and goosebumps. Betty, not hearing his mocking laugh, turned to look at him, worried. "Jughead?" She called. She found him petrified a few steps behind her, staring at her, with no trace of the carefree laughter that characterized him. "What is it?"_

  
_Jughead stretched out his arm, without taking a single step, swallowing with difficulty. Betty saw the effort of the muscles in his throat._   
_"Your eye," he said, his voice flat and simple. And this time, it was Betty whose blood ran cold._

  
_Suddenly she cared barely or nothing about the cold, feeling the fear and embarrassment  possessing her while she covered the black eye urgently._

  
_"It's because of me, right?" Jughead suggested, bitterly. He approached one and two steps, keeping a respectful distance. Betty sighed, defeated, assuming it wasn't much use already trying to hide her eye. She dropped the hand that covered it, shortening the distance between them. But she remained silent, unable to formulate a word. "Betty, does Nick know about you and I?" Jughead asked, and Betty could see the painful effort he was doing not to cry._

  
_But Betty nodded, slowly. "Kind of. Nick thinks I'm cheating on him... "_

  
_Jughead sighed, a warm, trembling breath escaping from between his lips. His hands, involuntarily, rose to her face, cradling her in his hands with regret._

  
_"God Betty ..." he whispered, closing his eyes._

_Betty made an effort to smile._

  
_"Jughead, Nick controls every second of my life, please, please don't let him control this too ..." Betty begged, letting herself melt at his touch. When Jughead opened his eyes to look at her, there was the purest and most discouraging desolation she had ever known._

  
_"But, Betty-" He tried to complain, but Betty gave him a sad smile._

  
_"Please, Jughead ..." she insisted, and finally Jughead relented. After all, barely or nothing was gained by reminding what happened to Betty._

_He sighed, giving up and building a smile as believable as possible._

  
_"Are you still cold?" He asked, arching an eyebrow and pulling her to himself to hug her. He could almost feel her brows furrow with childish fury._

  
_"Of course I'm cold, you idiot!" She barked, pushing him away by smacking his chest. Betty knew she didn't  have enough strength to move Jughead, but he still took a couple of steps back with a smirk on his lips. Betty lived in love with each one of his smiles, no matter how much she got mad. "Are you fairly aware of how cold is that bloody lake !?"_

  
_Jughead allowed himself a long, long laugh, unable to fake it. With Betty, every smile and every laugh that came out was completely honest._

  
_"Here," he said, reaching for his flannel shirt. It was blue and gray, but still completely dark shades. "Wear my shirt, I'm sure it warms you more than you totally unintentionally stunning top that, turns out, to be my favorite color." He teased, grinning at her sideways._

  
_Betty snorted and snatched his shirt with annoyance, enjoying the familiar smell of his essence-leather and ink-and the heat that his body had left as he carried it, as she put it on. She felt eyes fixed on her as she buttoned the shirt coming from Jughead's motorcycle._

  
_When she looked up, she found the eager darkness of his eyes contrasted with the shining brightness of the sun reflected in them. He swallowed with difficulty, admiring some place lost below her waist. Betty crossed her arms, feeling his throat close as the hem of the shirt lifted slightly. She walked towards him, her smile growing as his eyes went up each step she took until, in front of him, standing between his  legs, their eyes met again, this time connecting._

  
_"Enjoying the views?" Betty implied with a smile and pink lips from the cold. She felt the  water drops fall from the tips to hit the fabric._

  
_Jughead borrowed her hand, warming it between his, caressing it tenderly, his eyes still clinging to hers, lost in thought._

  
_"Have I already told you how beautiful you are?" He asked, tracing her face  with his eyes, memorizing each freckle. Betty smiled, lowering her eyes to his lips - soft and tempting. "You should wear my clothes more often, you're damnhot."_

  
_Betty felt her cheeks burn, fearing that she had been burned by the sun._

  
_"If you like it so much, why do you seem interested in taking it away from me?" Betty teased, rediscovering the joy in his eyes. She felt something in her chest twist and turn, then stop and be reborn. It was a suffocating wave of heat that left her breathless._

  
_Jughead denied, biting his lip as he drew her body to his, this time matching his embrace. Jughead hid his face in the gap between her neck and shoulder, breathing her scent until he felt drunk with her; jasmine, clovers and daisies. Betty always smelled of gardens that reminded him of Greek myths, the nature of nymphs and the freedom of their laughter._

  
_"You don't know how much I hate you right now," he teased, laughing in time with Betty._

  
_And she felt his lips against the skin of her neck, and felt his warm breath ruffle her skin. She felt him at every point where their bodies were touching, she felt him, and she craved him. Both were anxious, but in complete and agonizing silence._

  
**_"I don't want to give him a reason to keep calling me a slut, Jughead ..." She had confessed once, both enchanted, both with their ambitious eyes fixed on the other's lips, both with broken hearts. "I don't want our story to be hidden from him, it would kill me if a memory of yours was corrupted by his selfishness ..." she had begged. Please, please don't make me say no ..._ ** _-She had begged once._

  
_And indeed, Jughead had respected her until today._

 

And so, Jughead continued to respect her eternally, even in her selfish decision to stay with Nick, when he offered to run away with him.

 


	10. Put the gun down

Fangs licked the lather of his beer, looking away from it; The White Whyrm was full of men and women with heads bowed or enthusiasm on the surface. Toni was at the bar, performing at her workplace with the same simplicity and self-confidence. Her pink ringlets followed her like a shadow.

  
He and Sweet Pea had assured her numerous times that she could ask for a leave without a problem, that Jughead would surely be the first to offer it, but Toni had denied with a smile and assured them that not only she was okay with the idea of working , but it was even therapeutic; a way of not thinking about Sparkle, of not eating her head wondering who would be the traitor and if it would be related with Sparkle's death.

  
When Fangs returned his attention to his partner, he felt a slab, which he thought he had left behind when he heard him laugh when he saw an old drunk man fall, falling dead weight on his chest again.

  
Something was wrong with Sweet Pea.

  
And of course he had the right to not he okay, with everything about the Serpents and the traitor. In fact, Fangs felt guilty for being more concerned with his frown and his sudden silence than with the fact that there was someone, whom they might have known all their life, selling them to the Ghoulies while at the White Whyrm he or she offered them a smile all proud shouting the Serpents' sixth law: In unity, there's strength.

But something told him that Sweet Pea wasm't like that because of the traitor.

  
"'Pea, you've been in a mood since we've sat down, is something wrong?" Fangs asked, already desperate for the constant tremor under the table and the persistent involuntary swaying of Sweet Pea's leg.

  
The boy looked up, his eyes meeting.

  
"It's nothing Fangs, don't worry. You know, "he said, though to Fangs sounded more like a last-ditch attempt to convince himself than a threat to reassure him. "Between Betty, Toni, the traitor and ..." Sweet Pea let the conversation die.

  
"And ...?" Fangs insisted, not quite believing that that was all that happened to him, but deciding to not pressure him.

  
Sweet Pea looked him straight in the eye, as if he was fighting the moral battle of whether to be honest or not.Whether to lie to his best friend or risk everything and tell the truth. He swallowed hard, taking the bottle of beer back to his lips, looking away.

"Well, you know ... The business stuff and the Ghoulies. I have the feeling that this was money that we could use ... "Sweet Pea muttered before giving one and two long drinks.

  
"Oh," Drowned Fangs, seeing how Sweet Pea outlined the limit of his lips with the tip of his tongue in an involuntary and totally innocent manner, as he had done seconds before.

  
But if it was Sweet Pea, nothing was innocent, and Fangs hated himself for it.  
   
 

* * *

 

  
Jughead pushed the door with his shoulder, opening it, dropping dead weight against the wood.

  
It had been definitively an exhausting day, and his body didn't give in for absolutely one more step. Once the meeting was over, he made a last warning to the present ones: "Keep your eyes and ears open and don't trust anyone unless you have total and absolute confidence in him or her. If you have doubts about someone, forget the code, forget the tattoo. Come directly to me and tell me about it; the Serpents' code is broken as soon as betrayal comes into play. "

  
_Serpents. I hope that Betty has forgotten her absurd suicidal attempt to join the Serpents._

  
As soon as the door opened and the light was blatantly thrown at him, Jughead stripped off his jacket, emitting a soft whisper as it grazed first the fabric of his shirt, and then his arms. He left it on the couch, throwing it, praying that his years of Physical Education would've served for something and not fall on the ground.

  
Spoiler: it fell on the ground.

  
However, Jughead was too exhausted both mentally and physically to even consider the idea of stopping to pick it up and give gravity another chance to not disappoint him, so he just dropped on the couch, listening to the wood of the stands complain.  
   
And Betty was in the kitchen, cooking, but neither of them were aware of the presence of the other, so Betty, while putting the meat pie in the oven, with headphones on, began to sing:

  
"Now, you've been talking in your sleep. Oh oh, things you never say to me. Oh oh, tell me that you've had enough. Of our love, our love "her voice, melodic and soft, sang the most painful and heartfelt words that Jughead had ever heard. He felt his heart stop for a fraction of a second as the softness of that slow song consumed him, stealing his breath. "Just give me a reason, Just a little bit's enough, Just a second, We're not broken, Just bent And we can learn to love again. It's In the stars, It's been written in the scars on our hearts: We're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again "Jughead, awkwardly, stood up to look in thethe kitchen's direction, where the melodious singing came from. His eyes, wide, admired the door's threshold, as if the carrier of that voice were there.

  
_Betty?_

  
Almost jumping from the couch, Jughead ran to the kitchen door, freezing in the frame in front of the scene:

  
Betty, with her hair loose falling in waves on her shoulders, danced distractedly from one side of the kitchen to the other, with a delicious smell coming from the oven. She was wearing black jeans, light blue socks and a dark blue and almost black grays flannel. 

 **His** shirt with dark blues and almost black grays.

  
Something inside his chest expanded to almost touch the walls of his rib cage. His lungs deflated and his smile grew almost touching his ears. It was one of the sweetest visions he'd ever fantasized about in the past three years: Betty in his clothes, smiling, dancing, singing ... Betty happy.

  
He leaned against the old doorframe, admiring how her ringlets bounced from side to side with each turn and turn. Her frown, concentrated and puckered, highlighted the grimace she was making with her face, wrinkling her nose.

  
"And what do I do to this man for dessert?" She wondered, looking intently at the oven, enjoying the echo of its murmuring in the silence. "I mean, with the appetite he has, I could make a dessert from each food culture and he would still be hungry, but ..." Jughead arched an eyebrow as his smile grew wryly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ummm ... I think I'm going to make him a cake ... Now the question is: Flavor?" She asked, heading towards the fridge while she sang the song again. "Oh, tear ducts and rust, I'll fix it for- AAAAH!" She screamed, giving a little leap when she saw Jughead smiling at her from the doorframe with one of his magical, spooky shark smiles. She put her hand on her chest, fearing that her heart had stopped. Seconds later, she tore off the headphones with still shaking hands.

  
"Hey," he greeted, still from the doorway, softening his smile. He was glad to see that she had regained some color.

  
"Hey," Betty whispered back, feeling the red filling her cheeks, treacherous. Her eyes fell to the ground for a moment, wondering how long he had been there, listening to her, observing her.

  
"I didn't know you sang so well ..." he said, in a soft and velvety voice that sent chills allover Betty while the red on her cheeks did nothing but burn her.

At her silence, Jughead took one step and another, now standing facing each other, one step away. A dizzying wave of clover and ink drowned her. Betty looked up, finding his blue eyes bathed in green and gray.

  
"By the way," he whispered, this time with a hoarse voice. Breathless, just a plea. His fingers were intertwined with the gap between two buttons of the shirt, feeling her belly shrink as she suffered a chill when he brushed it. Betty swallowed with difficulty. "You should wear my clothes more often ... You look better on them than I do."

  
A new flashback:

  
   
_They both laughed, in symphony, with honesty._

  
_As they went out for a walk, they were caught in a sudden and monstrous storm, sending them back to Jughead's house, which at that time was the trailer park. Jughead had offered Betty a hot shower and some of his clothes, dry, while hers were drying._

  
_When Betty came out of the shower, already with his clothes on, she had gone to the living room to meet with Jughead. When they saw each other, a silly laugh for the simplicity and clumsiness of the matter invaded them. They laughed with hinesty and carelessness; with freedom, with desire._

  
_Jughead stepped aside, making place in the couch for her . Betty tiptoed to him, biting her lower lip to suppress her shy smile as the red reappeared on her cheeks._

_She settled beside him, enjoying the warmth of his body. Jughead trailed his arm down her back, bringing her closer to him._

  
_"I'm sorry that our walk has been crashed ..." Jughead whispered, enjoying the silence in her company._

  
_Betty smiled, snuggling with him. She could hear his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt; firm, real, rhythmic._

  
_"I'm exactly where I wanted to be ..." Betty whispered back. She heard a kind of laughter or cough escaping from his lips, and seconds later a soft kiss was left on her forehead._

  
_Betty lifted her head to meet his eyes; blue, dark, lost._

  
_And something in her burned: **they were lost in her.**_

  
_Jughead remained silent for a few seconds, admiring her with a slow, intimate smile adorning his face._

  
_"You should wear my clothes more often," he mumbled, and again his voice was hoarse and choked in the sense of prohibition, danger, desire. "You look a thousand times better in my clothes than I do. "_


	11. Good times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is... In the next chapter some cheesy and deep bughead happens ;)

A sharp and painful scream of real terror split the night, waking Jughead in a suffocated gasp for air.

  
"Betty !?" he yelled into the darkness of his room, waiting for an answer.

Seeing that there was no response, Jughead rushed to the door.

Running like a condemned man, he followed the echo of her gasping breath, hearing his own footsteps run like crazy to Betty's room.

No light came through the windows, leaving sad and lonely traces of a white shadow against the floor. He ran to her room, his heart pounding from his chest.  
   
When he abruptly opened the door to Betty's room and the light slipped in, her felt his world come crashing down when he saw her cornered in her own bed, her eyes full of tears and her white complexion of pure panic. She was hugging her throat, trying to breathe, hyperventilating in a sad attempt to fill her lungs.  
   
Jughead hurried to her worried, praying that Betty was fine. His hands covered her cheeks, staring steadily at her restless eyes, bright against the moonlight, like shining emeralds.

"Betty, Betty," he called in a soft, protective voice, "Betty, hey, look at me," Jughead insisted, brushing the pink skin of her wet cheeks with his thumbs.

"N-N" Betty was trembling severely, terrified, unable to formulate a word. "Ni-Nic-k," she stuttered in a strangled whisper, closing her throat. Her silver green eyes crossed his face anxiously, as if they were looking for some answer in him.

"Betty, everything's fine, it's just been a nightmare," said Jughead, brushing the hair away from her face, tangled in thin golden threads like the sun's rays. Betty seemed to relax with his delicate act, holding her breath a bit to readjust it at a quieter pace. "Come on, take a deep breath ..." he prayed, feeling a great relief spreading inside him when he noticed that Betty seemed to calm down. But, still, she was still shaking violently.

Almost involuntarily, Betty threw herself into his arms, letting go of all the anguish and terror that had aggressively torn her from her sleep. Jughead surrounded her, sighing, while Betty found her hole hiding her face between his neck and shoulder, feeling a wave of heat all over his chest when her breath touched the vulnerable skin of his neck.

_Its hers, without a doubt. Because that would always be her hole._

Jughead stroked her back in a worried attempt to soothe her sobs, desperate, but no longer hidden. Betty snuggled into him, settling into the strong, warm wall and cradle that was his body.

After a few minutes of comfort, Jughead could see that Betty was clearly calmer, and even though it was totally against his interests, he knew that Betty needed to sleep.

"Betts," he whispered against her skin, hugging her with renewed strength. "Betts, you need to sleep."  
Jughead made a move to get up and help her to lie down again, when Betty strengthened her grip, her fingers on his shirt, making him stand stiff.  
   
"Please ... Don't leave me ..." She sobbed in a brittle, heartbreakingly vulnerable plea.

Jughead took a deep breath, feeling a lump in his throat.

"Do you want me to stay here ...?" Jughead asked, struggling to not fall apart in that moment. 

  
Betty nodded slightly, still with her face buried in his cotton one.

 

* * *

 

Only God could describe what Betty felt upon waking up in Jughead's arms.

  
Although it had been a week since Sparkle, Betty still had episodes like last night from time to time; sometimes they were little, like a feeling of discomfort in the street or alone, but things had generally improved.

  
Betty opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the sunlight coming through the windows, blinking several times as she began to be aware of the softness of the sheets and the warm wall behind her. It smelled of ink and clovers.

  
She turned on herself, staying face to face with a sleeping Jughead. The full silence of the still early morning allowed her to appreciate the rhythmic rhythm of his breathing.

  
Betty looked at him intently, wanting to see beyond what she was supposed to be able to see at first.

She admired the strands, lost in his tangled hair, falling over his eyes; the relaxed expression, lips parted to let rhythmic sighs escape.

A memory approached her:

_"Betty ... Let's run away," Jughead whispered, both of them lying on the roof of his trailer, facing the sky._

_Jughead had promised her that there was a lovely shower of stars that night that couldn't be missed by anything in the world, so neither of them could resist. There they were, admiring the grandeur of heaven._

_"What?" Betty asked,_ _surprised, turning to look at him, hoping to find one of his iconic mocking smiles that told her he was joking. However, she only found the fine line that defined the profile of his face, highlighted by the contrast between his olive skin and the paleness of the moon, which was reflected in his eyes._

 _Betty made a mental note that night: She loved the way his eyes shone, both with the moonlight and its own bright. Alive, hopeful_.

_"Let's run away." He repeated, his voice calm, appeased. "Let's look for a place away from here, one where we don't have to worry about Nick, or crazy mothers, or alcoholic parents, or stereotypes ..."_

_Betty smiled, touched. Then she returned her attention to the sky, smiling at the grandeur of the stars. She felt a heartbeat multiply awkwardly._

_"Do you think that place exists?" She asked, smiling at the white and blue. The darker, but less frightening black she had ever known_.

_Jughead shrugged, but he kept admiring her in silence, feeling the beating of his heart stop slowly. A simple, but inevitable smile slipped from his lips._

_"Who knows" now he was facing heaven "we have a whole world to explore ..."_

  
Even today, Betty regretted not having listened to his offer and fled. Simply to have taken her clothes, to have left a suggestive coke note to Nick with a message like _"See you in hell, disgusting pig"_ or something like that, nothing very direct. She wished she had climbed into that bike and fled miles away from there.

But it was too late.

"Take a picture, it will last longer," said Jughead, with an ironic and mocking tone, even with his eyes closed.

Betty opened her eyes wide, feeling her blood freeze and her cheeks begin to burn.

"Shut up, you idiot." Betty ordered, slapping him in the arm.

"Careful, beast!" Laughed Jughead, watching Betty roll her eyes, still with red cheeks. He tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer to him, snuggling into her small figure. Betty received, with a tickle, the surge of Jughead's smell; Clover, ink and some perfume.

_I didn't think I could associate those three scents with anyone else in the world._

"Good morning to you too, pretentious." Betty mumbled, still annoyed.

Jughead, with a broad smile and eyes still closed, placed a kiss on her crown.

_We act as a couple. I guess there are things that are never lost ... Jughead always had that simplicity about me, that facility to adjust to each other._

"Good morning" he smiled, finally opening his eyes to look at her from above. "Have you managed to sleep well? Any other nightmare?"

Maybe it was the way his eyes looked at her; with warmth and familiarity, or maybe it was that power that Jughead always had over her, but Betty felt that she fell silent, only capable of denying.

Jughead raised his hand to her face, framing it with his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

Betty let herself be done, closing her eyes, enjoying the softness of the contact, of the familiarity in the affective act.

_That was Jughead, that's how we used to be: Simple, close, us. Acts of affection or comfort weren't planned; they simply surfaced, were born, completely involuntary._

"Do you want to talk about last night?" He asked cautiously, his voice still husky from sleep.

 _Honestly? No. Talking about the nightmare with Nick would involve talking about why I came here, and I'm pretty sure you'd start acting like an angry mommy bear_.

But even with that inner fear, Betty took a deep, determined breath.

_Sooner or later we all face our monsters._

"Jughead ... I have something to tell you ..."


	12. Good times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is... In the next chapter some cheesy and deep bughead happens ;)

A sharp and painful scream of real terror split the night, waking Jughead in a suffocated gasp for air.

  
"Betty !?" he yelled into the darkness of his room, waiting for an answer.

Seeing that there was no response, Jughead rushed to the door.

Running like a condemned man, he followed the echo of her gasping breath, hearing his own footsteps run like crazy to Betty's room.

No light came through the windows, leaving sad and lonely traces of a white shadow against the floor. He ran to her room, his heart pounding from his chest.  
   
When he abruptly opened the door to Betty's room and the light slipped in, her felt his world come crashing down when he saw her cornered in her own bed, her eyes full of tears and her white complexion of pure panic. She was hugging her throat, trying to breathe, hyperventilating in a sad attempt to fill her lungs.  
   
Jughead hurried to her worried, praying that Betty was fine. His hands covered her cheeks, staring steadily at her restless eyes, bright against the moonlight, like shining emeralds.

"Betty, Betty," he called in a soft, protective voice, "Betty, hey, look at me," Jughead insisted, brushing the pink skin of her wet cheeks with his thumbs.

"N-N" Betty was trembling severely, terrified, unable to formulate a word. "Ni-Nic-k," she stuttered in a strangled whisper, closing her throat. Her silver green eyes crossed his face anxiously, as if they were looking for some answer in him.

"Betty, everything's fine, it's just been a nightmare," said Jughead, brushing the hair away from her face, tangled in thin golden threads like the sun's rays. Betty seemed to relax with his delicate act, holding her breath a bit to readjust it at a quieter pace. "Come on, take a deep breath ..." he prayed, feeling a great relief spreading inside him when he noticed that Betty seemed to calm down. But, still, she was still shaking violently.

Almost involuntarily, Betty threw herself into his arms, letting go of all the anguish and terror that had aggressively torn her from her sleep. Jughead surrounded her, sighing, while Betty found her hole hiding her face between his neck and shoulder, feeling a wave of heat all over his chest when her breath touched the vulnerable skin of his neck.

_Its hers, without a doubt. Because that would always be her hole._

Jughead stroked her back in a worried attempt to soothe her sobs, desperate, but no longer hidden. Betty snuggled into him, settling into the strong, warm wall and cradle that was his body.

After a few minutes of comfort, Jughead could see that Betty was clearly calmer, and even though it was totally against his interests, he knew that Betty needed to sleep.

"Betts," he whispered against her skin, hugging her with renewed strength. "Betts, you need to sleep."  
Jughead made a move to get up and help her to lie down again, when Betty strengthened her grip, her fingers on his shirt, making him stand stiff.  
   
"Please ... Don't leave me ..." She sobbed in a brittle, heartbreakingly vulnerable plea.

Jughead took a deep breath, feeling a lump in his throat.

"Do you want me to stay here ...?" Jughead asked, struggling to not fall apart in that moment. 

  
Betty nodded slightly, still with her face buried in his cotton one.

 

* * *

 

Only God could describe what Betty felt upon waking up in Jughead's arms.

  
Although it had been a week since Sparkle, Betty still had episodes like last night from time to time; sometimes they were little, like a feeling of discomfort in the street or alone, but things had generally improved.

  
Betty opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the sunlight coming through the windows, blinking several times as she began to be aware of the softness of the sheets and the warm wall behind her. It smelled of ink and clovers.

  
She turned on herself, staying face to face with a sleeping Jughead. The full silence of the still early morning allowed her to appreciate the rhythmic rhythm of his breathing.

  
Betty looked at him intently, wanting to see beyond what she was supposed to be able to see at first.

She admired the strands, lost in his tangled hair, falling over his eyes; the relaxed expression, lips parted to let rhythmic sighs escape.

A memory approached her:

_"Betty ... Let's run away," Jughead whispered, both of them lying on the roof of his trailer, facing the sky._

_Jughead had promised her that there was a lovely shower of stars that night that couldn't be missed by anything in the world, so neither of them could resist. There they were, admiring the grandeur of heaven._

_"What?" Betty asked,_ _surprised, turning to look at him, hoping to find one of his iconic mocking smiles that told her he was joking. However, she only found the fine line that defined the profile of his face, highlighted by the contrast between his olive skin and the paleness of the moon, which was reflected in his eyes._

 _Betty made a mental note that night: She loved the way his eyes shone, both with the moonlight and its own bright. Alive, hopeful_.

_"Let's run away." He repeated, his voice calm, appeased. "Let's look for a place away from here, one where we don't have to worry about Nick, or crazy mothers, or alcoholic parents, or stereotypes ..."_

_Betty smiled, touched. Then she returned her attention to the sky, smiling at the grandeur of the stars. She felt a heartbeat multiply awkwardly._

_"Do you think that place exists?" She asked, smiling at the white and blue. The darker, but less frightening black she had ever known_.

_Jughead shrugged, but he kept admiring her in silence, feeling the beating of his heart stop slowly. A simple, but inevitable smile slipped from his lips._

_"Who knows" now he was facing heaven "we have a whole world to explore ..."_

  
Even today, Betty regretted not having listened to his offer and fled. Simply to have taken her clothes, to have left a suggestive coke note to Nick with a message like _"See you in hell, disgusting pig"_ or something like that, nothing very direct. She wished she had climbed into that bike and fled miles away from there.

But it was too late.

"Take a picture, it will last longer," said Jughead, with an ironic and mocking tone, even with his eyes closed.

Betty opened her eyes wide, feeling her blood freeze and her cheeks begin to burn.

"Shut up, you idiot." Betty ordered, slapping him in the arm.

"Careful, beast!" Laughed Jughead, watching Betty roll her eyes, still with red cheeks. He tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer to him, snuggling into her small figure. Betty received, with a tickle, the surge of Jughead's smell; Clover, ink and some perfume.

_I didn't think I could associate those three scents with anyone else in the world._

"Good morning to you too, pretentious." Betty mumbled, still annoyed.

Jughead, with a broad smile and eyes still closed, placed a kiss on her crown.

_We act as a couple. I guess there are things that are never lost ... Jughead always had that simplicity about me, that facility to adjust to each other._

"Good morning" he smiled, finally opening his eyes to look at her from above. "Have you managed to sleep well? Any other nightmare?"

Maybe it was the way his eyes looked at her; with warmth and familiarity, or maybe it was that power that Jughead always had over her, but Betty felt that she fell silent, only capable of denying.

Jughead raised his hand to her face, framing it with his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

Betty let herself be done, closing her eyes, enjoying the softness of the contact, of the familiarity in the affective act.

_That was Jughead, that's how we used to be: Simple, close, us. Acts of affection or comfort weren't planned; they simply surfaced, were born, completely involuntary._

"Do you want to talk about last night?" He asked cautiously, his voice still husky from sleep.

 _Honestly? No. Talking about the nightmare with Nick would involve talking about why I came here, and I'm pretty sure you'd start acting like an angry mommy bear_.

But even with that inner fear, Betty took a deep, determined breath.

_Sooner or later we all face our monsters._

"Jughead ... I have something to tell you ..."


	13. Beauty and beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say that I know Nick has green eyes, but it felt better to say the black deep eyes bc its more scary, I guess. Meh, we hate him anyways
> 
> ❌WARNING! SEXUAL ABUSE AND VIOLENCE! ❌

_Come on Betty, it can't be that bad ... Right?_

Betty and Jughead had decided to move their conversation into the kitchen. The bed was strangely intimate and comfortable to talk about Nick in it.

He prepared breakfast: coffee for him and hot chocolate for her.

Betty smiled to herself; After all this time and after so much happened between them, Jughead still remembered that the only thing she liked about coffee was the smell and color.

_Of course he remembers, stupid, he's Jughead._

Both of them took a seat at the kitchen table, face to face, in silence.

Betty took a deep breath.

"I guess I have to start from the root of all this ..." She sighed, bouncing her leg in an impulsive nervous tic. "Why did I come here? Why did I leave Riverdale?"

» _It all started about two, three weeks after you left._

_It was a Saturday night. I was at Nick's house, reading a book. It wouldn't be much past seven when I heard his keys in the lock._

_Nick came tumbling in, as always drunk. He was muttering something, but I didn't want to know what he was saying–something meaningless, probably._

_"Hi Nick." I waved from the couch. The truth is that I've never gave him any affectionate nickname, but seeing him drunk didn't help to make me want to start doing it._

_Nick didn't even turn around, he didn't say hello. Not even his common growl in response. He simply walked awkwardly to the couch and collapsed on top of it, its legs creaking._

_He was particularly quiet._

_I wanted to keep silence; In fact, anything was better than no interaction with him. But unfortunately, he spoke after a while._

_"I heard you've stopped fucking that Seroent boy." He commented, with absolute calmness, like someone who says he has to go buy bread later._

_However, I knew that such an absence of expression or emotion in him couldn't mean anything good. I closed the book cautiously and left it on my lap, looking down at the floor, embarrassed._

_"We never “fucked”, we haven't even gotten to kiss." I assured him, with so much fear boiling inside, that the voice came out in barely a whisper. "But ... Yes, he's gone. He said they were going to ...Leave."_

Jughead closed his eyes, wounded, clenching his fists hard as he mentally prayed that it wouldn't have gotten worse.

_"I suppose he's tired of fucking you and he's looking for another one, at least one that's good at it."_

Betty's voice failed in that precise memory.

For years of her relationship with Nick, she had been reminded of how repulsive she was and how grateful she should be for someone like him noticing a slut like her.

» _I hated the way he said “fuck”. In fact, I hated that he said it. I felt that what we had was so sincere, and sweet and ... Well. I think we deserved a lot more than that._

_"I suppose." I nodded, anyway. I knew that going against Nick would never end well for me, so I ended up letting him believe what he wanted._

_I thought that our conversation had died again, that fortunately my dose of hate had ended ... But I was wrong._

_Nick placed his hand on my thigh, too close to my inner thigh. It was repulsive._

_"See, princess? You try to play the whore and the pimp ... But you don't have the ability to be one..." Nick said. And if it had been any other person and had said anything else, it would've sounded like real concern._

_I looked at him confused. Usually Nick just touched me to hit me, nothing more. He was never a loving man even before all this started, I didn't understand why he would start now._

_"But ... If you want so much to be a whore ..."_

_He didn't put an end to that sentence. It wasn't necessary._

_Usually, when he called me a whore, I used to feel chills, fear. He didn't say it in a rude but threatening way, as if it hurt him deeply and he blamed me for it._

_But that time it was a deep and suffocating need to throw up that came; the way his eyes, black and deep like a shark's eyes, looked at me without seeing, like gone. His smile was spooky and promising._

_He promised the worst of the prophecies and the deepest horror._

_My body reacted instantly, jumping off the couch and dropping the book. And everything seemed to enter the stage of some schizophrenic film._

_I stepped back every step Nick made toward me, heart pounding from my chest. It was clear that Nick was trying to do something to me and I was afraid to know what it was._

_I tried to run to the kitchen to grab a knife, but unfortunately he's a thousand times faster than me–yes, even drunk._

_Nick cornered me easily._

Betty had to stop for a second, feeling that all the memories were gathering; She took a deep breath, letting out a shaky sigh, and continued.

_ »Nick b ent me over the counter in the kitchen, held my hands behind my back, and with the one he had free he lowered my pants. _

_Then he threw himself on me, pressed his erection against me and stuck his mouth to my ear. It smelled of whiskey._

_"I'm going to teach you how to be a good slut so that the next time I want to kill you for being a bitch, you don't screw it."_

"Do not ask me how the hell I got rid of that, Jughead ..." Betty begged. The lost look. "But at some point I managed to get a glass from the sink and burst it in his head, and I ran, I ran out the door and didn't stop until I got to the police station."

Jughead sighed in relief, relaxing his fists. The blood continued to boil, but at least Betty managed to escape.

_»I spent the night in a hotel, crying and showering myself again and again because I felt that even if I  teared my skin I wouldn't forget about that night._

_When some friends of mine told me that they had seen the police the day before in front of Nick's house –a week after what happened–, I thought maybe I was already free. That I could go back home, pick up my things and maybe go back to my mother to start from scratch. Maybe I could leave the country._

Again, Betty needed to stop halfway through the story, feeling that emotion surpassed her.

_"But when I arrived, Nick was there. And he wasn't happy to see me..."_

"How was Nick there? What the-?" Jughead asked, offended and irritated.

"Surprise surprise: Nick's parents are great friends of the Sheriff, and since they refused to have their son falsely accused of mistreatment and attempted rape, even though I showed them the medical reports, they couldn't find any reason to keep him." Betty interrupted, smiling wounded and sarcastic.

Jughead clenched his fists again, cursing.

_When I got home, Nick was nowhere to be found. Or so I thought._

_I picked up my things from the room: clothes, belongings, earrings and necklaces, my brush ... I was leaving everything in the entrance._

_Then I remembered that I forgot in my room that scarf that you gave me on my birthday, and I ran up to look for it, not willing to spend a single second more in that house._

_I searched for the scarf throughout the room, although I was completely sure I had left it in my drawers. But it wasn't there. I was going to turn to look again in the closet when in a matter of seconds, I felt someone behind me as a cloth tasted against my throat from behind._

_It was Nick. Nick was at home. Nick had the scarf. Nick was trying to kill me._

_Nick brought his mouth closer to my ear, still smelling of alcohol._

_"Ungrateful bitch." He cursed, tightening even more. "Did you really think you would get rid of me so easily?"_

"Again don't ask me how I got rid of it, but I managed to escape and run. But Nick had been smarter this time."

_Nick had a weapon. A knife._

Betty's throat went completely dry. Tears already falling down her cheeks.

"Jughead, he ..." She tried to say, again drowning in her own words.

Jughead looked at her terrified, afraid to hear the end of the story.

Betty ducked her head, embarrassed, as she stood up. Jughead followed her movements closely with his eyes, confused.

Betty grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor, remaining in a bra in front of Jughead.

His eyes opened, now tearful, at the same time that his jaw dropped with horror.

Betty was a map.

From the thin but painful chaste lines crossing her forearms, to the bruises along her body and finally ... Clean cuts. Two deep scars:

One on the stomach, millimeters over the navel, and the other under her breast, just where her bra was curving.

Jughead felt his eyes blur in tears, unable to see her. He blinked, not caring if the tears fell. He felt a lump in his throat that didn't let him breathe.

He felt that time was dying and the walls were closing around and over him as he dropped to his knees on the floor, defeated, destroyed, sunk.

His eyes danced with horror through the story told by Betty's body, trembling and shy.

Jughead raised his hands, claiming her skin, letting out sobs.

They both cried in silence, together, with broken hearts.

Jughead hugged her waist from below, sinking his face into her belly, moistening it with his own tears. Her skin crawled when she felt Jughead tremble against her.

"He almost killed you ..." Sobbed Jughead, repressed by the knot formed in his throat.

_I almost lost you forever ..._

"What I dreamed last night ... It was Nick coming in here, murdering you and then coming for me ..." Betty whispered, her voice cracking that much it was already completely broken.

Jughead stood up, his knees trembling and his heart still breaking as it tried to beat desperately.

They looked each other in the eyes, tearful and scared.

Jughead pushed Betty into a hug, holding her close to him to feel her and make sure she was real, that she was with him. They allowed themselves to collapse into each other's arms once the embrace was consolidated.

"He won't touch you again, Betty," Jughead whispered against her hair. "I promise to protect you with all my strength ..."

 

 

_"When she wanted to talk it was too late, she realized, that she lived next to evil: beauty and the beast, I rather not to tell you the end." –Porta (Spanish rapper)  «Beauty and beast»_


	15. Blood and fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say that "ser mirado por un tuerto" is a spanish expression that refers to someone who has really bad luck. 
> 
> And don't even think that Betty forgot about what the old man said;)

The things between Betty and Jughead were much more fluid since they had that little talk.

Betty certainly felt much better after she had shed that weight and after being honest with Jughead.

They had gone from uncomfortable glances and confused encounters to a wink here, smile over there and a squeeze in the shoulder. They were silent, but wonderful conversations.

And even then, there was a lot to talk about.

It had been a couple of days since their conversation, and the coexistence was much more pleasant.

Betty was in the White Wyrm, covering Toni's shift in a favor she had done to her; Toni had to stay at home taking care of Cheryl, her girlfriend, who apparently had fallen into a terrible fever that almost sent her to the hospital.

The White Wyrm was quite active, but not full. Compared to the days that seemed to have lived that old glory (based on anecdotes told by her friends), this was a quiet day.

"Betty," Scarlett called her; the waitress who greeted her the first day she entered the White Wyrm, looking for Jughead. "I need you to take this to table thirteen."

Betty nodded with a smile, taking the three bottles of beer and the three cold jars in each hand.

When she arrived at the table, she welcomed with a smile the three men who chatted and laughed quietly, beginning to place the jugs and then the bottles.

"Anything else, a snack, or ...?" Betty asked, running her hands over her shirt to free herself from the cold in her hands.

One of the men (the one who sat on her left) threw a comical sight at his drinking partners and laughed under his breath.

"Depends, princess, are you on the menu?" He joked, holding her close with one arm.

Betty, uncomfortable, tried to get rid of his grip.

"Something that's _already_ in the menu?" Betty insisted, trying not to be impolite.

He should've been around thirty, and he had used by far one of the best-known pick up lines in the world, but nevertheless she was still sick.

But the man insisted just like her or even more, taunting her and trying to grab her calves and thighs with laughter. His friends laughed with him.

"Come on, queen, you left us all wanting to see you in the next test ..." the man purred with a more than evident drunken accent.

Betty was doing her best to get rid of him, but his arms were like tentacles.

When Betty managed to get away from him, she tried to flee towards the bar, but her way was blocked by the men, who stood up synchronized like watches. Betty felt her blood freeze when she saw them move one step forward and another, cornering her against the wall.

_These people weren't Nick. Nick was much more emaciated and impatient, like a squirrel addicted to crack; desires and ideas came and went at lightning speed, changing his intentions as fast as his mood swings. Nick was careless, Nick wasn't sadistic or vicious._

 

* * *

 

 

Sweet Pea and Fangs were playing some pool, theoretically oblivious to their surroundings.

"Do you feel like going home later?" Sweet Pea proposed absentmindedly, tracing some play mentally while looking one by one at the balls and their position, calculating options. Fangs looked up, one eyebrow arched, surprised and confused. "I-I mean, you know ... Play some games on the console and have the last one." He added quickly and clumsily, the red climbing his cheeks.

Fangs smiled sideways, leaning on the billiard pole.

"Sure, sounds great." He accepted, staring at Sweet Pea.

When Sweet Pea stopped looking at Fangs, he admired the surroundings: the quiet atmosphere, the fluidity of the day, the music playing in the distance.

But something didn't fit.

Sure enough, Sweet Pea and Fangs were **theoretically** oblivious to everything that happened beyond the pool table, but both knew they had to keep an eye on it anyway. And indeed something wasn't right.

"Fangs?" Sweet Pea called, checking one by one the heads he could see from his position.

"'Pea?" Fangs replied, crouching on the table and calculating directions.

"... Where is Betty?"

  
The sound of a broken glass was the traitor: three men clustered against a wall, surrounding a small blond head.

"Shit," Sweet Pea mumbled between his teeth, leaving the stick on the table. "Fangs, go for Jughead," he ordered, beginning to address the crowd of people.

* * *

 

"Please, please stop." Betty sobbed, stirring in the grip of the three men, choking on the horrible breath of alcohol and tobacco their bodies gave off.

Her body began to numb with pure panic; A nervous breakdown, Betty supposed. Some kind of post-traumatic reaction after her years with Nick.

The same man who put her in that mess rushed at her, pinning her hard against the wall, hurting her head by hitting it accidentally against the wall.

"Come on sweetie ... Show us how the girls move in Riverdale ..." The man whispered against her ear, then down to kiss her neck with slow wet kisses that made Betty want to throw up.

However, her heart stopped: _How did he know I'm from Riverdale? What did that comment come from? Only Jughead and the Serpents that accompanied him that night should know ..._

* * *

 

_"Jughead, it's Betty, she needs help."_

Never before had Jughead run with such a decision and anger rumbling under his skin.

When Fangs burst into his office, almost choking on his own fatigue, Jughead didn't understand; but when he heard it was Betty, his body felt paralyzed.

Sure enough there they were: Sweet Pea had managed to get rid of the three men and was making a wall between Betty and them, clenching his teeth and fists ,turning his knuckles white.

_He's holding back for her, for me, because he knows what kind of boyfriend Nick was and what Betty suffered._

But Jughead couldn't simply contain himself.

Jughead pushed his way through.

"What the fuck is up with you, man?" Protested one of the men, clearly annoyed with Sweet Pea for ruining his fun. Sick.

"Is there a problem?" Jughead asked, Fangs behind him, looking between Sweet Pea and the three men standing in front of him.

Betty was behind Sweet Pea, clearly shaking, her eyes glassy.

"Jones, better take care of the bitches you have by your side." Suggested one of the men. "This useless shit has begun to behave like a brute and has attacked all us three for no reason."

_No reason. Wow; because it's totally normal to corner a poor girl who was probably just serving tables, right? It's unrealistic that nowadays we still really consider a situation like this completely normal._

"No reason?" Repeated Jughead, frowning thoughtfully. "It's funny, Jack, because for a "no reason" thing I have Fangs and Sweet Pea with an impressive desire to grab you by the neck and Betty, an old friend of mine, trembling behind him." Betty and Jughead's eyes met.

The three men seemed to begin to understand.

Jughead approached the one in the middle, who had swollen lips. Jughead took a quick look at Betty, and understood: a reddish irregular mark covered part of her neck.

Jughead gritted his teeth.

He patted the man's back, gripping the back of his neck, making him shrink.

"Guys, walk these gentlemen to my office," announced Jughead, smiling falsely at the man next to him. "It's time for a little talk."

"I hear you clear and loud, boss." Sweet Pea nodded, stepping away from Betty to take Jughead's place.

"It'll be a pleasure," Fangs continued, along with the other two.

Jughead waited until they had left to focus all his attention on Betty.

When their eyes met again, Jughead discovered new paths of tears running down her cheeks. Her green eyes seemed less bright than ever.

"Are you okay?" Jughead asked, searching for any hint of hope that could fuel his desire for her well-being.

Betty nodded slightly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"Are you sure? Do you want to go home?"  
Jughead insisted, approaching her.

Betty felt a royal wall of heat and intoxicating smell of ink hit her.

"No, I'm fine Jug ..." Betty said, voiceless.

Jughead was silent for a few seconds, meticulously reviewing her face.

_I knew it wasn't right, I knew it well. But I knew how much Betty hated to admit that she needed help or that she couldn't handle something._

Jughead let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay," he said, "but today I'll close late, and I want you to rest well. Do you mind if Scarlett brings you home?" He asked, trying to draw a simple smile for her.

 _Home_. Betty thought. And she knew that surely there wouldn't be much science behind that expression, but something in it was illuminated.

Betty smiled as much as she could (which wasn't much) and nodded slightly.

"Perfect," Jughead smiled, pulling her into a warm hug.

Betty clung to him, trying as hard as she could to physically remember him; the smell of ink, the way his arms held her, the way his chest rose and fell.

"See you in a while," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Seconds later, the embrace had broken and Jughead was walking away, getting lost in the crowd of the White Wyrm.

 

* * *

 

  
Hours later, Sweet Pea and Fangs had that promised game with beers.

"Dude, what they did to Betty today was soo messed up–Zombie to your left !!" Sweet Pea said, his tongue numb and pasty.

Fangs and him pounded the buttons of the controls frantically, opening his eyes like plates in the explosion of lights and color.

"I know, dude, as Toni would say, it seems like a one-eyed looked at her" Fangs muttered, clearly more attentive to the game than to his conversation.

"Jughead was totally out of his mind in there ..."

"I guess that's what happens when you fall in love," Fangs said. "You lose control when they hurt the person you love ..."

Sweet Pea seemed to be speechless. Completely silent; his hands held the command irrationally as his eyes, terrified, fell from the screen to Fangs.

"And ..." His throat was completely dry. "And what else ?"

"Eh ... Well, you also feel somewhat stupid, really." Fangs laughed.

"And do you feel ... Scared?" Sweet Pea asked.

"Well, yes, I suppose you can feel quite scared when you realize what someone who didn't mean anything months ago, can affect you ..." He reasoned, still without paying real attention to Sweet Pea. "'Pea you have a horde of zombies to your left."

Sweet Pea swallowed in a desperate attempt to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. His hands trembled.

"'Pea, the zombies are coming." Fangs recalled, leaning to one side and the other impulsively, as if his character followed his movements. But Sweet Pea still didn't react. "Pea?" Fangs asked, now worried about his friend's sudden silence.

Everything happened too fast.

When Fangs opened his eyes, Sweet Pea's lips were pressed against his.

It wasn't a passionate and ardent kiss as he had imagined a thousand and one times, but slow, vulnerable and terrified.

Sweet Pea's hands clung tightly to Fangs's denim jacket, as if he needed him to be as close to him as possible.

Fangs lips began to move, welcoming the kiss.

 

* * *

 

It had been at least five hours since she saw Jughead disappear through the door of his office.

As Jughead had suggested, Betty waited for Scarlett's shift to end (this time staying safe behind the bar) and then Scarlett took her to the apartment.

Jughead wrote her at twelve a message to make sure everything was going well at home and that Betty was feeling better. Betty dined some leftover macaroni and waited for Jughead watching The Simpsons.

Back at two o'clock in the morning, Jughead was coming through the door.

As the night already touched the early morning, Betty couldn't avoid falling into the comfortable arms of Morfeo, and therefore, when she heard the lock, she got scared.

She looked at him from the couch, still encased in the purple blanket; He left the keys, took off his jacket and gave a long sigh, running his fingers through his hair as he dropped by her side on the couch.

Betty admired the thin line of his profile in silence for a few moments: his eyes closed, his eyelashes kissing his cheekbones, his Adam's apple rising and falling as he swallowed.

"Hey," she whispered after a while,  
Covering him also with the blanket.

The TV was still going, back in the chapter three hundred and a little. It was one of the few lights that illuminated the apartment, giving it a ghostly veil.

"Hey," Jughead returned, tilting his head towards her.

He looked at her tired, defeated; There were no bags under the eyes but she didn't need it either. She could see how his eyes closed under their own weight.

Betty's eyes, restless, fell into his lap, for some reason.

Actually it was stupid that her eyes suddenly felt the need to find the answer to something that hadn't yet been asked in his lap, but there was, great and majestic, his great doubt.

Oh, but Betty found something really interesting.

The Jughead's knuckles.

They were bloody, swollen and injured. His hands seemed slumped, without strength, surrendered.

Betty sought the blue comfort of his eyes, finding the fiercest shame.

Betty smiled, tender and deposited a soft kiss on his cheek in gratitude,interlocking their fingers.

 


	17. Who runs the world?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this chapter is heeeella short, I'm so sorry guys :( but to make it up to you... There will be some really, really, reaaaaally HOT dance in the next chapter ;)

_"Well, well Jack ... How long have we known each other?" Jughead asked, walking nonchalantly around the three men. Sweet Pea and Fangs held the other two, who trembled under their grip._

_"T-three months ..." Jack stammered, beginning to understand the tremendous mistake he had made._

_Jughead nodded. His military boots were the only thing that could be heard throughout the office, the drinks and music from bar muffled by the four soundproof walls._

_Jughead usually didn't have this kind of "meetings", he didn't like them, in fact, but sometimes they were more than necessary._

_"You see Jack ... It turns out that here we have a more than severe rules about perverted pigs ..." Jughead stripped off his jacket, letting it fall from his arms as if he were shedding his skin._

_Before Jack had a chance to answer, Jughead gave him a hard and painful punch, breaking his lower lip._

_Next, Jughead grabbed him by the neck of the shirt, lifting him as if he didn't weigh the least and threw him aggressively against the wall. Jack moaned in pain._

_As soon as he was in front of him, Jughead grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, giving him a new punch._

_"Listen to me, piece of scum" his voice was sharp as a knife. His eyes, poisonous as the worst of the snakes. "If you ever put one finger on Betty again, I swear I'll kill you with my own hands, understand?"_

Jughead woke up with Betty curled up in his arms.

He almost felt his heart stop when he looked down to find an angel with golden hair like gold itself. Her hair fell in waves on her shoulders and back, covering the blue fabric of his shirt.

And almost fearing that his heart had throbbed with such force that it had awakened her, Betty slowly opened her eyes, with a delicate flutter of lashes.

She took a while to adjust to the light, and so, slowly was realizing the scenario in which she found herself: Jughead's strong arms cuddling, the smell of ink, his shirt, the intimate position in which they were.

Betty lifted her head to look at him, her eyes still dull from sleep.

"Good morning." She mumbled with a sweet asleep voice. Jughead had to repress with all his strength the urge to kiss every inch of her face.

Instead, he offered her a sleepy, but in love smile.

"Good morning, princess," he said, placing one of her blond locks -soft, silky and shiny- behind her ear. He saw how her cheeks turned red. "Did you sleep well? "

 _These used to be us: inevitable physical contact, furtive caresses and casual conversations._ Betty thought.

Betty nodded slowly, giving herself the freedom to snuggle more comfortably with him; his arms adjusted to her quickly, almost involuntarily.

"And you?" She whispered against his warm skin, hiding her face in his chest.

Jughead smiled to himself.

"Better than ever," he announced to the ceiling, feeling her thin arms around him.

 _I like you, you like me, why the hell do we extend it so much?_ Thought Jughead.

They remained silent for a while, simply enjoying each other's company and the softness of their caresses.

"I wish I could stay in this bed forever ..." Jughead whispered, more projecting a thought out loud.

"I wish ... I wish ..." Betty whispered, with a sad and dull tone.

 

* * *

 

The dawn of Fangs and Sweet Pea was ... Awkward, at least.

It didn't have much science to discover what had happened: the clothes of both were resting in the ground and different marks by scattered points of the bodies of the two young guys betrayed great part of the history.

"Eh ... G-Good morning ..." Sweet Pea greeted, completely embarrassed and red.

Fangs had smiled at him from the side, not knowing what to say to relax him.

"Good morning, do you want some coffee?" He asked, pointing to the coffee pot.

Sweet Pea had Shook his head, not knowing what excuse to put.

_I am so terrified of thinking about what happened last night, that I don't think I can even look at you in the eye ..._

"Fangs, I'm not gay." Sweet Pea had explained hastily, nervously. He clutched the fabric of his jacket tightly.

Fangs smiled, compassionate.

"I know, I'm not either." He explained.

"No, that's not either, none of this is me, it's been an accident." He tried to explain himself, waving his hand frantically, embracing the space between them, referring to the previous night. "It was a mistake."

Fangs looked at him in silence, hurt, mortally wounded.

_You and me a mistake? Sweet Pea, please, last night was scary, yes ... But if it was scary it was because this was the best night of my life ... If it was scary it is ... Because it told me that I am so in love with you .. Just like you are with me._

"I think ... I think I should go." Was the last thing he said before leaving the door of his apartment, in a heavy silence.

* * *

 

"Betty, I've already heard what happened last night while you were covering my shift ... God, I'm really sorry, really." Toni hurried to say as soon as she met Betty at the bar counter.

"Don't worry, Toni," Betty smiled, trying to downplay the matter. "Sweet Pea, Fangs and Jughead appeared before it could go worse."

Toni gave her an apologetic smile, but her eyes wandered slightly, and it slowly disappeared.

"How did our lover boy react to that mark ...?" Toni asked, leaning her hands on the counter, coming closer to Betty. "Should I assume that bandage that covers his hand is an answer?"

Betty nodded slowly, hiding the hickey with her hair, embarrassed.

"Betty, surely Jughead will end up killing me for this, but ..." She sighed "Do you want me to teach you how to fight?"

Betty raised her eyebrows, surprised. She reached out her neck, reaching for the straw in her glass and taking a long sip of her drink.

"And why would Jughead get upset?" Betty questioned, confused. After all, wasn't her safety what Jughead wanted?

Toni smiled wryly, taking a glass from under the counter and rubbing it thoroughly with an old cloth that Betty had seen too many times before.

"I doubt that purple feels good in you, blondie." She scoffed; her silver earrings shining between the pink ringlets. Her caramel-colored skin always reminded Betty of the belly dancers she used to watch on TV in documentaries.

  
Betty seriously considered the offer: on the one hand, she would no longer depend on the presence of the charitable soul of a strong boy who dared to come to save her, but on the other hand it would surely mean hiding it from Jughead ...

"Toni?" She called her, seconds of meditation later.

"Betty?"

"Teach me how to fight."

A smile that promised nothing good was drawing along the faces of both women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smh Sweet Pea, why!?!?! 
> 
> We all know Toni just wants to see our dear Betty in shorts, you don't lie us Toni ;))))


	19. War of hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie: this one is pretty painful. 
> 
> WARNING: Here a character uses the word f*g and some really mean and hurtful things are said. If this could hurt you or you're not okay reading it, skip the fight ❤

Betty and Fangs were playing pool in the White Wyrm.

Fangs and Sweet Pea had avoided all contact since that fateful morning, and that was three days ago.

Fangs leaned over the table, stroking the stick, aiming; Betty waited attentively at her turn, watching out of the corner of her eye how extremely distracted Fangs must be to lose against her, this being her first time.

The Wyrm was as full as usual, and Jughead had gone out to run some business, asking his father to take over the bar. FP was at the counter, thoughtful.

Betty looked distractedly over her shoulder at FP; the muscular shoulders seemed to be the Joneses mark.

Betty rejoined the game when she heard the sound of the balls collide with each other and then roll on the reddish surface of the table; Then, a curse and a blow came from Fangs.

"Fuck!" He protested, frustrated.

Betty opened her eyes more, surprised by the sudden abruptness of her friend: he had placed his hands on the table, dropping his head as if it were lead.

"Fangs ...!" Betty called, worried. She walked towards him, without taking her eyes off him, and placed her hands on his back, trying to frighten his worries with affection. "Hey, what's wrong?" She asked.

Fangs took a deep breath, slowly filling his lungs and then letting out the air.

"Doesn't matter Betty, don't worry ..." Fangs tried to reassure her, convincing himself with his lies.

But Betty didn't believe them for a tenth of a second.

"Fangs, I'm kicking your ass at pool." Betty pointed out.

"You have a gift?" Fangs suggested.

"It's my first game, Fangs, you've been playing for years." Betty countered, defeating Fangs. She crossed her arms, imposing. "You're going to take the bike and you're going to take me to a coffee shop and we're going to talk about whatever this is about, okay?"

Fangs didn't dare to say no.

* * *

 

Betty knew, from her high school years, that there wasn't problem that a hot chocolate didn't solve.

Fangs and Betty drove to the heart of New York, where Betty knew one of her favorite coffee shops. The place was, by far, a thousand times quieter than the White Wyrm.

Betty ordered a hot chocolate and some buns covered in chocolate and sugar; Fangs, a coffee.

"Well, tell me." Betty smiled, offering Fangs the "buns of peace".

Fangs sighed, concentrating on the methodical rhythm of the spoon by instinctively stirring the coffee.

"Sweet Pea and I ... Had...Sex." He confessed, blushing.

Betty was stunned with the bun halfway to her mouth. She opened her eyes, stupefied.

"Wait, what !?" Betty put the bun on the plate again, focusing all her attention on her friend, who, for some reason, seemed embarrassed. "Oh, wait ..." She stepped back, thoughtful. "You didn't want to?"

For the first time, Fangs looked at Betty in the eye; They were brown, bright, but deep and practically black. The pain that he carried on his shoulders was palpable.

"God Betty, it was the best moment of my life ..." Fangs whispered, as if it were a thought.

Betty frowned, confused.

"So?" She asked.

Fangs was silent for a few seconds, looking at the surface of the table, perhaps drawing and blurring the color pattern or delineating the shop's emblem.

When Betty assumed the conversation died, Fangs found the strength to continue.

"He ... He ran away the next morning ..." He mumbled.

Betty felt her heart break into a thousand pieces.

She didn't know Fangs very closely, but she could tell how much he loved him by how close he was to Sweet Pea. In fact, Betty suspected there was something between them, but she never thought it would be anything more than one of her secret ships.

However, Sweet Pea didn't seem entirely clear about how he felt about his friend, and that was breaking probably both of them.

Betty reached out to cover Fangs's hand, caressing it in a sad attempt to comfort him.

"I'm sorry that it's not like you wanted, Fangs ..." she said, her voice soft.

Something seemed to react in Fangs.

"Betty, I don't understand," protested Fangs, making large, quick movements with his hands "if he doesn't like me, why did he begin kiss? He first asks me about love and feelings, and now he doesn't even want to see me ? "

Betty shrugged, with a sad and angry grimace at not knowing how to help her friend.

"Sometimes feelings are confusing, Fangs ... Maybe he thought he was in love with you or that he liked you and he found out that he didn't ..." She suggested, offering him even more buns.

Fangs ran his hands through his hair, intending to comb it, but only managed to disheveled. His eyes shone, as if he were about to cry.

"Have you ever felt something like that?" Fangs asked, looking up to hold  her sight. Betty frowned, confused, tilting her head. "Have you ever felt a mess inside your heart?" He explained.

Betty pretended to ponder the question, letting it's sharp tip pierce her chest, damaging her heart.

 

_"Jughead, no ..." Betty tried to protest, again with the memory of Nick in her head. Jughead, instead of letting her go and accepting rejection, held her hand more urgently._

_"Betty" he breathed "please, don't go back to him ..." he begged. When Betty stopped looking at the ground to notice him, she felt the intense green and blue fused as a single color shining in his eyes._

_His lips no longer spoke her name, but even so, Betty thought she heard it every time he breathed._

_"Jughead, you know we can't ..." She tried again, sure that if she managed to convince him, she could convince herself._

_But Jughead unclasped his fingers and slowly brought her hand to his chest, placing it over where the heart would be._

_Their eyes never stopped looking at each other; satiated by the life in their colors, falling in love with the way their reflection was seen through them._

_Betty could feel his heartbeat through the cotton of his shirt: irregular, hasty, nervous. They were heavy, but incessant and accelerated._

_Betty felt her throat run dry. Jughead leaned his forehead against hers, breathing her breath now, feeling her lashes caress his cheekbones as she looked back at his blue eyes._

_"Don't break my heart, Betty ..." he roared, barely in a sigh, a sob, a whisper. Betty felt a chill run down her back as his warm breath touched her lips. "Not for him, not like this ..."_

_They were so, so close, but at the same time so far away ..._

_They could touch each other, they could feel, they could love each other ... But they weren't together._

_And Betty felt every millimeter between their lips as the most painful and agonizing stab._

_Involuntarily, their lips adjusted to the other's shape, without touching each other; They made the feint of starting a kiss, without touching skin with skin, and both felt like dying._

_Betty, still holding her hand over Jughead's heart, pulled away, unable to look at him, her eyes closed and a deep grimace of pain framing her face._

_It burned, it was definitely as if it burned. They needed to kiss like air to breathe._

_"Sorry, Jughead ..." She apologized in a gasp, wanting to swallow her words without fearing choking on them. "But I think we shouldn't see each other again ..."_

  
If someone knew about broken, confused and mutilated hearts, of course that was Betty.

"Oh Fangs ..." Betty smiled sadly. "If I told you... "

Fangs, catching the hint, returned the composed smile to Betty and raised his coffee cup, offering a toast.

"For the club of broken hearts," announced Fangs.

"For the club of broken hearts" Betty corroborated, with a smile that wasn't completely false this time.

 

* * *

 

"Sir, I bring good news," announced our traitor, with a victorious smile shining on his lips.

Malachai, already used to that heading, ignored his presence, reading a car magazine.

"I know how to attack Jughead gravely and cause chaos among the Serpents at the same time." He announced, this time earning his boss's attention.

"Oh, my dear friend, I hadn't seen you!" He smiled, sitting up in his seat, listening for the boy. "Show me."

"Jughead has a sister and his mother in Toledo." He announced, keeping the rest of the information for now, forcing Malachai to show interest.

"And?" He asked curtly "And I have a cousin in Greendale, do you want me to throw a party for that?" He said, sarcastic, losing interest again.

"Well, FP would do whatever it took to get them back." He added, quickly.

Malachai froze halfway down the page.

"FP?" He repeated, a horrible smile drawing on his face. "You mean the same FP that is ruining his son for his alcoholism caused by, well, the loss of his wife and daughter?" A foxy look crowned his face.

The traitor nodded, proud that Malachai was following his footsteps.

"It would be tragic if an issue required FP in Toledo, don't you think?" Malachai insinuated, "that doesn't look cheap ... And I'm sure Jughead wouldn't be happy to hear the news ..."

"We win whatever he decides." The traitor explained: "If he stays here and his father goes, he would lose a lot of money, but if he decides to go instead of his father, he would be leaving the Serpents alone, giving us the opportunity to find a million more ways to make him fall. "

Malachai smiled astutely.

 

* * *

 

_**I'm at the door of the Wyrm, come out, I'm waiting for you.** _

_**J.** _

After at least an hour of conversation with Fangs about him, about her, about the Serpents and about everything and nothing at the same time, Fangs left Betty in Jughead's apartment , where Betty took the opportunity to tidy up a little, eat, watch TV ... A long story short: relax.

Then, Toni asked her if she could please go over to the Wyrm to help her out because the other waitress had had to run to the hospital because her little brother had fallen into a terrible pneumonia, so Betty showered and took the car to drive to the White Wyrm.

It wasn't until midnight that Betty received that message from Jughead.

She showed it to Toni, promising to return sooner than a cock crows; Toni simply smiled and asked her to tell her the details tomorrow.

Betty ran to the doors and opened them with a radiant smile on her lips, finding Jughead leaning on his motorcycle, with his arms crossed and a sly smile on his face.

However, something seemed to surprise him, leaving him stunned for a few seconds.

Jughead wore simple black jeans, his military boots, and a plain white cotton shirt, wrapped in a blue denim jacket.

Betty felt something burn inside her chest as she walked towards him.

"Good evening, princess." His eyes adjusted to the distance between them. "Ready to know the part that wasn't told about Cinderella?" He scoffed, winking brazenly at her.

Betty raised an eyebrow, incredulous and defiant.

"You mean the part where Cinderella leaves the prince and has a threesome with the waitress and her girlfriend?" Betty shot, giving him an innocent smile that anyone believed.

A small smirk appeared from the corner of his mouth.

"Nah, I'm talking about the part where I was allowed to look," he said, offering her the helmet.

"Where are we going?" She asked, abandoning their duel. She saw out of the corner of her eye how Jughead got on the motorcycle, having a strange feeling when she saw him ride that mechanical beast.

Betty swallowed, feeling her throat dry again.

"And tell me Betts, where would the funny part be if I told you?" Jughead teased, giving her a meaningful look that Betty couldn't decrypt.

Betty snorted, annoyed and put on the helmet, following Jughead's example and standing behind him, sliding her arms around his torso, hugging him and enjoying the gratuitous excuse to be so close.

Sooner than Betty deduced, the bike roared under her legs.

 

  
Minutes later they came to a beautiful park that Betty had no idea about. They had stopped on the way to get some food to go.

The moon shone high in the sky, as imposing as any king upon his kingdom; it covered with a fine silver mantle everything it saw, accompanied by it's faithful stars.

Betty and Jughead sat by a lake, enjoying the silence of the night, giving each other private smiles.

"Jughead, what's all this about?" Betty asked, marveling, staring at the treetops above their heads.

Jughead let out a mixture of hiccups and short, private laughter.

"I guess ... After all we've lived, and the things we've ... Seen" Betty tried to keep the smile, looking at the ground, trying to hide the marks in her arms. "I thought this would be a small reward for so much punishment, don't you think?"

But deep down, Jughead wished she would never answer.

He loved seeing Betty fascinated. In fact, he had just named it his favorite thing: Betty fascinated.

The way he could see the moon in her eyes, the stars and the whole universeuniverse; how her lips, involuntarily, formed a smile when she got lost in the colors. How her face seemed to light up when she was lost in her thoughts.

"It's beautiful, Jug," she confessed, reaching for the glass of red wine in front of her and taking a short drink. "I love it. "

Jughead smiled, but remained silent, still lost in his new favorite pastime: admiring Betty.

The truth is that she was beautiful.

And he hated to think that she was painfully beautiful that night, because he knew that she hadn't made the slightest effort to get ready, and therefore he was terrified to even think about how his heart would stand to see her groomed and elegant for a date. But there are things that simply don't change, that is that Betty is beautiful no matter what she does.

Several minutes passed and Betty didn't seem uncomfortable or upset with the silence, but both enjoyed the random and short conversation and the moments when they were looking at each other and smiling without knowing why.

Jughead smiled, unconscious.

"I want to kiss you," he confessed, with the simplicity of someone who mentions the time.

Betty, on the other hand, was completely still, looking into his eyes, her cheeks flushed and a response on the tip of her tongue.

"Jughead ..." She started, but Jughead raised his hand, begging for silence.

"I know it's complicated, and I know that Nick is still present in your mind whether I want to hear it or not, and I know we're difficult," he hurried to say, with a relaxed smile that Betty instantly envied, "but I want you to know that I want to kiss you. In the same way I've always wanted –maybe even more. "

Betty felt her cheeks were red hot.

* * *

 

Fangs soon returned to the White Wyrm.

And it wasn't masochism, but a need to know that Sweet Pea was fine; or that he wasn't, he left it at fate's hands.

_I hate that feeling. The truth is that I hate that uncertainty: not knowing if you want the happiness of that person or if what you want is to see how he suffers the same way you suffer because your last tail of pride assure you that all this pain is his fault._

Sweet Pea was at the bar, spinning his cold beer mug, his eyes lost in the brew; and Fangs couldn't stand it anymore.

He walked to him, his chin trembling, but his legs firm, feeling his heart explode if he took one more step with each step he took.

And he heard Betty's voice in his head: _Feelings can become a mess ..._

She was right: right now Fangs wasn't entirely sure if he hated Sweet Pea or simply wanted to break a chair on his head.

Once he arrived at his side, he felt that he forgot everything he learned throughout his life about formulating words.

_Take a deep breath, Fangs. You can do this._

"How long do you plan to keep ignoring me?" He asked, with a tone between cold and tired. It was a demand for truce, a white flag.

Sweet Pea didn't even try to look at him.

Fangs felt his blood boil.

"Hey, it's not you who should be angry, but me. Remember? You were the one-"

"Shut up." Sweet Pea ordered, standing up; his eyes, now cold and ruthless, looked at him with hate. Fangs didn't feel fear, but pain. Authentic pain. 

"Now you're trying to scare me, 'Pea?" He watched Sweet Pea clench his fists, his knuckles turning white. "For the love of God, mature."

"Fangs, I told you to shut the fuck up." He warned again, slowly.

But Fangs still had a lot to say.

"Sweet Pea stop acting like a fucking coward and let's fucking talk things!" Fangs exploded, tired of the war.

He wished he hadn't said it.

Sweet Pea seemed to wake up from a violent sleep; He grabbed Fangs by the lapels of his vest and lifted him up, looking into his eyes furiously, teeth clenched.

"Damn fucking fagot, I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME IN PEACE." Sweet Pea barked, dropping Fangs, who tripped over the stool.

Toni jumped on the bar and ran to get between the two men. Her eyes looked hysterical on Sweet Pea's face, whom she no longer recognized.

"'Pea, what the fuck is wrong with you !?" Toni protested, using her arms as a protective barrier between him and Fangs, who was witnessing, gone, the scene.

His eyes shone, full of tears as the voice repeated over and over in his head, recited by the voice of the boy whose lips promised a thousand wonders three ago. _Fagot_. _Fagot_. _Fagot_.

Finally, he seemed to wake up from his coma, looking down on the man he once called a friend.

"Don't worry, Toni," he said, standing in front of her, again face to face with Sweet Pea. "I doubt that this fag knows how to throw a single blow."

Toni growled frustrated behind him.

"Fangs, you too? What the fuck is wrong with you guys!?" Toni protested, trying to be heard.

They held their eyes without any rest.

"Take that back." Sweet Pea ordered through clenched teeth, and Fangs noticed, with a slight pinch in the chest, that he had hit the spot.

  _He is so disgusted with the idea of having slept with you, of having even seen you in that way, that he now hates everything related to your sexual orientation; Now he hates you and it's your fault, because you've caused him real disgust._

"You're a fucking fag who likes a cock more than a musical, you're Freddie Mercury himself, and you're a real disgrace to this family, not because you're gay, but because you panic about something as simple as being fucked in the ass. "Fangs spat, and each word exuded even more hatred than the previous one.

Sweet Pea squeezed his fists one last time, and the next thing Fangs saw was black, accompanied by a lively and ardent ovation.

A fight had begun, and he was losing.

 

* * *

 

  
Jughead stood up, laughing, catching Betty's melodic laughter.

Bored with silence, they decided to put some music, both agreeing that possibly the most suitable genre would be in Betty's playlist.

_[Novo Amor: "Anchor"]_

"Give me your hand," Jughead asked, a sweet smile on his lips.

Betty looked at the hand and then at Jughead, unsure.

"Don't you trust me?" He asked, pretending to be offended.

Betty denied slowly, growing her smile; "Not the least."

Jughead took it equally, helping her to get up; suddenly, they were immensely close to each other, in a somewhat intimate, private and ... Strange situation.

Their eyes went from top to bottom, tracing the short path between eyes and lips, longing, suffering.

"Oh, come on ... When did I lie to you?" Jughead continued joking, drawing Betty to himself as he wrapped his arms around her waist, forcing her to slide her own arms over his neck. They were dancing.

It was a scene taken from a story, that's for sure; Jughead knew for sure that it was impossible for him to be so happy. He had to be dreaming, it had to be a dream.

The moon's light fell on them, framing them in a halo of light that stopped time: they rocked to one side and the other following the music's sound, enjoying the mellow chords and the distant song. Jughead admired her face self-absorbed:

The way her blond hair fell in slings on her shoulders; her eyes shone under the reflection of the stars, dreamers and excited. And her lips? Her lips smiled. To him.

Betty Cooper was smiling at him, and it was one of the most magnificent things he had ever seen in his life.

"For example that time you assured me you wouldn't fall in love with me." Betty attacked again, smiling beforehand, knowing that Jughead would take the blow with difficulty, crushing his pride.

"That was a low blow," he protested, frowning.

Betty couldn't help but laugh; They were in a park, they had an express dinner and now they were dancing along with a beautiful lake a song by Novo Amor. It was ridiculous! Just a year ago, Betty didn't even consider the idea of living long enough to run away from Nick's hand.

She was with Jughead, and he was incredibly handsome that night; with his denim jacket, his smell of ink and that beautiful smile that she had missed so much.

It was hilarious and terrifying.

Jughead tightened his grip at the sound of her laughing, unable to contain the sudden need to have her closer and closer; he wanted to devour that smile with kisses, in the same way he wanted to cover with kisses the relief of her forearms that tickled his neck. He wanted to hold her so tightly he could make sure she wasn't going to disappear anymore.

When her laughter died down, they remained silent for a few seconds, just looking into each other's eyes and smiling.

Finally, Betty lowered her eyes to his lips, and couldn't help but wonder what his kisses would taste like; if they'd be sweet, if they'd be salty. Would it melt her heart, or would it cause short circuits?

Almost as if he had read her thoughts, Jughead again made eye contact with her, and leaned down; his lips closer and closer.

Her heart hammered hard inside her chest, as if it was trying to escape. Betty felt that the whole world was spinning at full speed, making her feel dizzy.

And his lips were getting closer and closer ...


	20. Boulevard of the broken dreams

Betty woke up alone in her room the next morning, and feared it had all been a dream.

After showering, brushing her teeth and getting dressed, she went to the kitchen, hoping to find Jughead there, miraculously preparing breakfast.

But there was no sign of Jughead.

Betty began to feel anxious, taking her nails to her palms involuntarily, feeling the panic come to her.

To distract herself, she decided that maybe preparing breakfast would help her get distracted, so she went to the fridge to see what ingredients were available to prepare a breakfast that would compensate for the lonely awakening.

Soon after, she was enjoying her French omelet, watching FRIENDS on Netflix, hugged by a blanket on the couch.

In a desperate attempt not to lose her head and save herself from a deadly boredom, Betty decided to call Toni to see if, by chance, she was free and didn't mind going over to make her company.

Toni answered the third tone.

"Toni speaks." She announced in a sing-song voice, the sound of bottles, voices and background music making it difficult to hear her.

"Toni," Betty greeted with a distracted smile, looking around, knees drawn up against her chest. "I was calling to see if you wanted to do something ... If you're not too busy ..."

_And to know if you have any idea where the hell is Jughead. Is there a meeting of the Serpents or something? A delivery? Any problem that Jughead couldn't simply ignore?_

"Eh, well, right now I have to take care of a girl; She wants to join the Serpents and she's a little lost, but why don't you come? Maybe you can help her with being new and all that, it seems like she's your style. "Toni proposed; the distraction in her voice showed that clearly Toni was attending to more than one matter at that moment.

Betty wrinkled her nose with a smile.

"What do you mean by she's my type?" She asked, standing up to look for her shoes. There was no harm in company, and if it was someone new, it was better than better; She was someone who still didn't know about Jughead or their story. It would be like starting from scratch.

Betty was about to hang up, assuming that Toni had finally been consumed by her pile of tasks, when she heard the girl's voice again:

"When you see it you'll understand."

 

* * *

 

 

Toni was wrong. Tremendously wrong. Chaotically wrong.

When Betty arrived at the White Wyrm, ten minutes after finishing her call with Toni, and came in, looking for her, she found her talking to a dark-haired girl with her back to Betty.

"Betty!" Toni greeted with a smile when she approached them, shy. The girl she was talking to turned around, giving Betty a kind smile. "I'm glad you've come; Betty, this is Veronica. Veronica, this is Betty. "

_THIS IS WHAT SHE UNDERSTANDS BY MY STYLE !?_

Betty felt her jaw touch the ground when she found herself face to face with Veronica: big brown eyes, the color of coffee, a broad, bright smile with thin lips, a long, wavy mane of black hair like the darkness of the night. Veronica wore tight black jeans with a torn Metallica top and a gleaming pearl necklace.

Veronica reached out her hand, focusing her precious black suns on Betty's watery greens.

"Veronica Lodge, delighted." She introduced herself, waving Betty's hand firmly.

"Betty Cooper." Betty smiled, still stunned by the girl's mythological beauty.

"Well, I already did my job as Celestina" Toni announced with a smile, drawing the attention of both of them. "Veronica, as Jug told you, in a few days his father will take care of your works to join the Serpents, and meanwhile ... Learn the laws to fire, meet people who can lend a hand and-"

"Is Jughead here?" Betty asked suddenly, frowning, surprised.

As if Betty had just asked the most obvious question in the world, Toni frowned at her.

"Sure, as always, in his office." Toni said, nodding, pointing to the doors of his office.

Veronica followed the conversation in silence, looking between the two women.

"Does he have a meeting or ...?" Betty inquired, feeling her pulse slow down.

Toni, beginning to understand the reason of her questions, gradually changed her confused face to a bitter expression of guilt. Her shoulders slumped, limp, and her teeth caught her lower lip as she shook her head slowly from side to side.

"No Betty ..." She mumbled, feeling the weight of her own words crush her like a steamroller.

Betty nodded slightly, just a few millimeters, and took a deep breath, turning to look at Veronica.

"Do you want to ... Watch a movie, or ...?" Betty began to ask, feeling guilty for not having planned anything entertaining for Veronica. She had allowed herself to travel so deep into her Jughead spiral and her sudden need to ignore it, that she hadn't thought about what Veronica would like to do.

Veronica, forming a sympathetic thin line with her lips, raised her hand, asking for silence.

"I know that face," she accused, raising her eyebrows with suspicion "it's the face of a broken heart." Betty felt her cheeks flush until they burned.

"I-" She tried to defend herself, interrupted by a slight laugh escaping the brunette's lips.

"Okay, let's call it the «It bothers me a lot that you're an asshole» face" she offered again, linking her arm with hers, hugging it with affection. "The best therapy for that is a good intensive shopping session and a good friend to let it go."

Betty blushed again, looking at the floor, embarrassed.

She swallowed. "I ... I don't have money," she explained, so low that only Veronica could hear it.

Again, Veronica gave her a beaming smile.

"Daddy pays, don't worry," she announced, beginning to walk, pulling Betty to follow her path.

"Veronica, I can't let you pay my-" Betty tried to protest, again interrupted.

"B, it's the money my father has earned by using me for his dirty business. Believe me, I want to get rid of it as soon as possible. Besides, daddy is amazing and disgustingly rich, he bathes in hundred-dollar bills, don't worry about money. "Veronica sentenced, finally dragging Betty out of the bar.

Toni watched them walk away while serving a Gimlet. She sighed, denying herself as she watched the new duo move toward the bar doors.

_Oh Jones ..._

She thought, remembering Betty's sad expression.

_What the hell are you doing…?_

 

* * *

 

  
FP saw with pure desolation the dancing shadows in Jughead's eyes.

He saw the raging flames in the blue reflection of his irises, narrating the condemnation of a poor condemned devil before being judged; the story of a man who'll die sooner because of the old age of his mind and the horror that witnessed his heart than by the fatigue of his body. He felt profound grief at seeing his son's pupils showered in tears; Telling the story of a child who waited in front of the door, waiting with a heart beat for his father to come back and tuck him into his arms, raising a high wall between the child and the authors of his bruises. The story of a boy with a broken heart.

"I've been waiting my whole life for you to realize that I still believe in you, even if you laugh at me in my face." Jughead accused, and cursed his own voice for collapsing when he most needed his famous indifference and satire. "And now you want to leave with Jellybean and mom to start from scratch?"

FP stepped forward, carefully, like a hunter sneaking up on his prey trying not to scare it.

"Jughead, son ..." Another step. Slow, stealthy, cautious. "I know I haven'tt done things right in my life ..." The lump in his throat choked him.

Jughead snorted, pulling away from his father, with a hurt and bitter smile. "Understanding of the year."

"... But I love Jellybe-"

Jughead gave a strong kick to the coffee table in front of him, startling FP.

"AND WHO THE FUCK LOVES ME!?" He shouted. His voice would be choppy if it wasn't because he was already completely broken in tears. FP remained static. "FUCK" He wept, tearing off his beanie with fury and throwing it to the ground, out of control. His father's eyes began to moisten.

FP just stared at the floor, unable to hold the poison of his son, the pain in his eyes; the feeling of betrayal oozed through the pores.

 

  
"NOW YOU WANT TO RETURN TO YOUR DAUGHTER !?" Jughead barked; the veins in his neck swelling in rage, his face red from screaming, his cheeks moistened by tears. "WHAT IF YOU TRY TO STOP BEING AN ALCOHOLIC FUCKING SHIT AND DON'T LOSE THE ONLY IDIOT WHO HAS BEEN CARING FOR YOU SINCE HE HAD USE OF HIS OWN MEMORY!?"

  
Jughead didn't care if his screams reached the other side of his office doors. He didn't care if they heard him.

  
In fact, he didn't care about anything.

  
Suddenly, Jughead exchanged the screams for a bitter hoarse laugh at the effort.

  
"You should've warned me about this," he said, this time in a normal voice, but far from calm; it was anger exposed as sarcasm and hurtful irony.

  
FP raised his face, confused.

  
"Warn you about what?" He asked, also in a hoarse voice; his eyes alienated in tears and red from crying. His lower lip trembled, but that was nothing but a mere representation of the panic that was consuming him inside.

  
Jughead's blue eyes stared at him, cold, and FP found no consolation in seeing his son cry as much or more than he was.

  
"That every single person I'll love throughout my life,  will always have someone who would be more important than me." He snapped, shrugging. "Jellybean, Mom, Nick, the Serpents." He listed, crossing his arms, as if he could keep his heart from continuing to break by pressing his arms against his chest. "Maybe then I would have done like Mom and Jellybean and left your drunk ass and saved me a lot of suffering."

  
There was an interval of anguished silence.

  
"Jughead" choked FP, trying to make his son understand, trying to make him see that he needed to go to his daughter and wife. He would always be there, but they may not come back ... Right? "Jughead, son, I ..."

  
Jughead looked up at his father again; Tearful eyes, red lips, tears still falling down his cheeks, losing themselves as soon as they left the skin.

  
"I want you to leave," announced Jughead, expressionless. His eyes looked hard, adding intensity to his words.

  
_You've broken my heart again, you've abandon me again._

 

* * *

 

 

"Why do you want to join the Serpents?" Betty asked, walking alongside Veronica through the long, claustrophobic corridors of a clothing store where-quoting Veronica-they _had_   to enter.

  
Veronica looked, absent-mindedly, at a gorgeous purple-colored dress with a fitted skirt. It had a V-shaped neckline, deep and marked.

  
"When I told Daddy I didn't want to be his personal little puppet anymore, he decided I knew too much to let me go, so ..." A long, lazy sigh escaped her lips, insinuating a clear «What can we do?» "He sent his men to get me out of the way."

  
Betty stood behind her, staring at her, stunned.

  
_Had he really tried to kill his daughter?_

  
"DHe tried to kill you?" Betty asked, still incredulous.

  
Veronica raised a finger to point: "Tries" corrected, reaching for the dress hanger to place the dress in front of her, looking up, asking with a smile if it suited her.

 

Betty smiled, deciding that the questions about Veronica's private life were enough.

 

"It looks great, Veronica"

 

She smiled, hanging the dress on her arm, starting to walk again.

 

"Well, well, well ... Let's talk about that lover boy of yours." Veronica smiled meanly.

 

Betty felt her cheeks burning again. Shrugged.

 

"There's not much to tell ..." She mumbled, shy.

 

Veronica rolled her eyes, smiling at her again, standing in front of another black dress.

 

"He looks like he's ... Playful, in bed," she suggested, placing the dress in front of Betty, looking her up and down, thoughtful.

 

Betty frowned, confused and ... jealous?

 

"What does that mean?" She asked, denying Veronica's doubtful look.

 

Veronica left the dress again, leading Betty through the corridors, meandering among the people.

 

"I mean he looks like the kind of guy who would enjoy pinning you against the wall while he fucks you with the ferocity of a bull." She explained with total and passive tranquility, as if talking about weather.

 

Betty turned red as Veronica¡s lipstick, opening her eyes exaggeratedly.

 

"Veronica!" She exclaimed, horrified by the boldness of her words while from her friend's lips  escaped a mischievous giggle.

Betty had fantasized about the idea of kissing Jughead numerous times, she couldn't lie about that, but Veronica's suggestion had awakened something dark in her; something dark and tingling that moistened her mouth.

 

_"He would enjoy pinning you against the wall while he fucks you with the ferocity of a bull."_

 

"What?" Veronica surrendered, yielding her own laugh. "Come on, don't tell me you've never thought of it before."

 

Betty bit her lower lip, still red as a tomato.

 

"N-no!" She protested.

 

Veronica smiled, holding in front of her this time a low-cut black tank top. Their gazes met, and Betty found the wickedness of a thousand queens in her eyes.

 

"Oh, B ... We're going to wake up that bull." She promised, handing Betty the garment.


	21. Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this one is crap 😹😹 sorry guys

Definitely Veronica's credit card had no end.

After two long– ** _very_** long–hours of shopping throughout the mall, stopping only when they couldn't carry more bags, they decided to stop for having some coffee and maybe croissants. If Betty's calculations didn't fail, they should've spent... Thousand dollars?

... And that just in Veronica's clothes.

They decided to stop to rest in an adorable cafeteria for a drink, following the painful plea of their feet.

The cafeteria wasn't too crowded, and there was a quiet atmosphere in which they could chat quietly without having to raise their voices to hear each other, being able to see people going in and out of stores on the other side of the storefront.

"So, talking about our five-legged ponny ..." Veronica implied, smiling mischievously at Betty, who was drinking, absent-mindedly, from her coffee.

Betty frowned as she swallowed, licking her lips.

Veronica raised her eyebrows significantly, rolling her eyes, trying to emphasize her comment.

Betty thought for a few seconds before she became completely red, dying of shame.

"Oh my God V!" She exclaimed, alarmed, covering her face to try to hide her blush.

Veronica took a sip from her coffee, winking at her.

"What's between you two?" She asked, resuming her previous comment, crossing her arms over the table, focusing her attention on Betty.

Betty sighed, letting the air out of her lungs slowly as soon as it filled them.

What was there between Jughead and her? Was there still something?

Yes, they had that physical comfort of being used to being close in such a real and present way, but was there anything?

Betty occasionally resorted to the sweet memories of the time she spent with Jughead before fleeing from Riverdale, when they looked like main characters from a romantic teen movie, but, she wasn't sure that Jughead resorted to the same memories.

They cared for each other, like all kinds of people who have shared a story –nice one–, but whenever it was about emotional closeness, they fell short.

"We have ... A past, I guess." Betty muttered, stirring her coffee with the spoon, although she had done it before, drawing a small whirlpool.

Veronica rolled her eyes, sighing with a smile.

"No, seriously, Sherlock?" She scoffed, tearing a sad smile from Betty. "The way you blush every time I mentioned him hadn't told me anything."

Betty gave her an affectionate blow on the arm, laughing, again blushing.

"All right, stop talking about me, what about you, any boyfriend?" Betty suggested, taking another sip of her coffee.

Veronica adjusted her hair, smiling sweetly; the fluffiness of her black hair was worthy of a Disney princess.

"Nope," she sang, looking amused at Betty.

"Girlfriend?" Betty raised her eyebrows, suggesting.

Veronica let out a loud laugh, singing and happy.

"No, girls are not my thing."

Betty frowned.

"So single? A lone wolf?" Betty guessed, her green emeralds shining when she saw that, for the first time, it was her who made Veronica blush.

"An asexual wolf, I'd say." Veronica explained, smiling again, but this time shyly.

"Oh." Betty smiled, understanding at last.

"If that smile is because you no longer feel that your man is in danger of falling into my claws, I'll throw coffee over you." She threatened, laughing at her reaction.

Betty raised her hands in surrender, catching her clean, honest laugh.

"I swear it wasn't," she assured, earning Veronica's peace of mind. Betty smiled at her with simplicity, at ease, calm; happy. "It's just that I'm glad you feel comfortable enough with me to talk about something so personal." She confessed, with a lower voice, more private.

Veronica smiled before reaching for her small cup of white coffee with golden details, smiling at her new friend.

"To B & V, the great dynamic duo." She promised, the lights' pale glow reflecting in the soft darkness of her ringlets.

Betty, moved, raised her cup with her, smiling at her.

"To B & V."

  


* * *

  


"What you did the other day was beyond stupid, Fangs." Sentenced Toni, making clear with her voice that she was still annoyed by the embarrassing spectacle.

Fangs snorted, still annoyed, giving his beer another sip.

"It wouldn't be the first stupid thing I do." Fangs muttered under his breath, looking around.

Toni crossed her arms in front of her chest, making it clear that his comment wasn't even funny.

"But of course the stupidest one," she said. "You and Sweet Pea are friends since you were wearing diapers, what the hell this fight was about?" Protested Toni, frustrated.

"Not everything in this life needs a precise explanation, Tons', get over it." Fangs begged, frowning, annoyed, as he looked at her.

Toni scoffed, throwing the rag against the counter to go back to her task of cleaning it, shaking it with energy; her earrings tinkled when she moved.

"What the hell is happening to you all today? Have you discovered how small your cock is or what?"

Fangs looked around, deciding to ignore his friend's comment as he let the background music take him to an unexposed third dimension where he could rest with his own thoughts.

_"What you did the other day was beyond stupid, Fangs."_

_"It wouldn't be the first time I do something tremendously stupid."_

_I fell in love with Sweet Pea, right? What's more stupid than that?_

_"But the stupidest thing."_

_Do you want to bet, Tons?_

_  
_

* * *

  


Hours later, Betty and Veronica returned to the White Wyrm to see how Toni was going and see if she would sign up for an upcoming shopping session.

They had spent all day at the mall–literally all day; They bought, ate, went to a massage session and continued talking about this and that. By the time they noticed, it was ten o'clock at night.

Betty and Veronica crossed the gates of the White Wyrm with laughter, finding it almost empty. They approached Toni with a smile on their lips.

"Well, well, blessed my eyes ..." Toni smiled from the bar, cleaning a jug with the old cloth.

"Buenas noches, Toni." Veronica greeted with a strong Spanish accent and perfect pronunciation, smiling at her.

"From what I see, you've had a good time," she predicted, raising her eyebrows at the amount of bags accumulated in their thin arms. "Please, tell me you've bought some Victoria's Secret beauty." She begged, winking at Veronica.

"You'll have to–"

"Another drink, Tons." Ordered a drowsy, doughy voice, still, extremely familiar to Betty.

She was fiddling with the bags, observing with a smile on her lips the garments of different colors inside the bag.

Toni scoffed, annoyed, moving away from them to approach the owner of the voice.

"Jones, isn't it time for you to go home?" Toni protested, with a certain worry voice, still not filling his glass. "You're this close to getting drunk," she announced, waving her hand.

Betty, recognizing the voice, raised her head quickly, drawing the attention of Veronica and Toni.

"Jug?" She said, and Toni could feel both emotions in that voice: pain and surprise.

Jughead, however, didn't even make the pretense that he was glad to see her.

Betty approached him, frowning, worried.

"Jug, I've been trying to contact you all day, where have you been?" She asked, looking at the boy next to her; the lock of hair that escaped from its place, the sunken shoulders, his fingers hugging the empty glass, admiring it. "Jug?" She insisted, seeing that he didn't answer.

"You know, Betty, I don't always have to be stuck with you, we don't have to be always together, we can make different lives." He snapped, turning on the stool until he was completely in front of her.

Betty opened her eyes, surprised, taking a step back.

"I know, I just ..." She tried to say, feeling her voice failing to look into the darkened eyes that she had been admiring for years.

"And you know what?, I don't even know what the hell you're doing here. Can't you be ten seconds alone without having to call me because there's some stupid thing you can't do?" He continued spitting, unable to stop. Betty watched him silently, her eyes filling with tears that never came to bloom. "What is the point of saving the little princess if I can't fuck her later?"

Betty absorbed those words in silence, staring at the boy in front of her.

Betty's fists closed slowly.

The bar was silent, both women watching the scene in silence, perplexed.

Only after the long interval of silence Jughead seem to realize what he had just said, widening his eyes, looking at Betty in panic.

"Betty, I–" He tried to say, his hands automatically trying to hold hers, watching as her fingers sank furiously into her skin, breaking it.

Betty pulled away from him as if he was burning, looking at him coldly, still holding the tears in place.

They maintained a disheartening war of stares.

Betty, without moving a muscle, spoke to Veronica.

"Hey, Veronica, can I sleep with you for a while?" Betty asked, still staring at Jughead, who was looking between the black haired girl and Betty, feeling his soul drop to his feet. "Just a while, until I find a work ..." Jughead looked at her desperately. "... And an apartment."

Veronica and Toni shared a look.

"Sure B, as long as you want," Veronica said, feeling the weight of their eyes on her, even though they only focused on each other.

Betty finally broke eye contact, turning to walk towards the White Wyrm's door, breaking the tremendous silence with the sound of her footsteps and the rubbing of the bags.

Jughead took one step and another, trying to reach her; He extended his arm, reaching her hand to hold it. He began to intertwine his fingers with hers, trying to stop the intentions of her nails.

"Betty–!"

Betty automatically turned around and slapped Jughead, leaving him stunned on the spot, completely frozen.

"Don't touch me again." She threatened.

  


As she walked out of the bar, only hearing Toni's soft "Night girls" she thought about a quote she read time ago:

  


_Not only punches hurt._   



	24. Cold

"Good morning, B" Veronica smiled, clearly forcing the normality and routine of any given day. "How did you sleep?" She asked as Betty took a seat in front of her at the kitchen table.

Frankly? She hadn't slept. And she knew that she knew it.

Betty had tried to stifle the need to provoke some physical pain that palliated the emotional in silent cries that choked her. She had cried at short intervals; she cried herself to sleep, waking again and again from her nightmares, turning, hoping to find Jughead, and then the vicious circle began again.

And if she had to be fully honest, she hated herself for feeling sad because she didn't have his arms around her, completely relaxed; Jughead was right, was she unable to do something without running into his arms?

"I've had better nights ..." She chose to say, not wanting to ruin the cheerful mood of her friend, who had been kind enough to let her invade her house.

Veronica deposited in front of Betty a small cup –of painfully expensive aspect– that gave off a delicious and intoxicating smell of fresh coffee. Next, she left a kiss on her head, stroking her arm in comfort, before returning to her place in front of her.

"I don't know what the hell led you to «have a story» with that guy, he was all an asshole!" Protested Veronica, drawing a displeased face before taking a sip of her coffee.

Betty bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing her growl of protest; she wasn't in the mood to talk about Jughead.

Betty shrugged her shoulders in response.

"He wasn't like that before, but, I guess ... Before he wasn't tired of waiting for ..." Betty was running out of voice at times, losing the thread of the conversation repeating the words in her head, feeling its weight collapsing in it.

Veronica, catching her fall in Jughead's spiral, acted.

"He's not worth it, B." She assured, taking another sip of her cup, looking equally expensive.

In that Betty agreed: the bubble had burst and the true intentions had flourished, what was Betty winning by lamenting?

 _Nothing_. She thought. _I get absolutely nothing._

"What about today we go to–?" Veronica began to propose, genuinely enthusiastic with whatever the idea that was around her head.

Whatever it was, because one of Veronica's servants, Mr. Smithers, appeared in the kitchen; stealthy like a cat.

"Good morning Miss Lodge and Miss Cooper." He greeted.

"Smithers, I've already told you a thousand times not to call me Miss Lodge, call me Veronica, I'm your equal, Smithers!" She smiled, infecting the elderly man with the gesture.

"This has come for Betty," he explained, showing a package of some carefully wrapped pastry.

Veronica rolled her eyes, reaching for the package, while Betty looked at it surprised and curious.

"Is he again?" She asked, annoyed.

Betty frowned.

"Who? "

"Jughead," she said, not paying too much attention.

"Jughead is here?" She asked, stopping Veronica's distracted movements, leaving her halfway to unwrap the delivery.

Veronica sighed, closing her eyes, repentant.

 _Shit_. –She must have thought.

"Last night he knocked on the door while you were sleeping" she confessed, looking like if she was trying to pull a band-aid slowly so it didn't hurt. "If I'm honest, I'm surprised he found out where I live. The fact is that he knocked on the door and tried to enter to talk to you, but ... I told him that you didn't want to see him and that he'd better go home. "She said, Betty felt her cheeks burning. "He said he wasn't going to leave until he could talk to you, and I told him that then he better get comfortable ... I guess he took it literally ..."

Betty curiously opened the package, discovering a dozen of delicious and small buns.

"Have he ...?" Suddenly she felt that her throat had gone dry. She looked at Smithers, hoping she didn't look like she was about to cry. "Have he slept here?" She asked, but she was afraid to know the answer beforehand.

Smithers nodded slightly.

"Yes, Miss Cooper, do you want me to tell him to leave?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Betty thought for a few seconds, looking at the golden tray with cupcakes.

Finally, she sighed, sinking her shoulders in surrender.

"Yeah ...Here" she huffed, taking the package back and returning it to Smithers, not being able to look him in the eye. "Give him this, he must be starving and–"

"No way, Betty." Veronica said, both annoyed and surprised, removing the candy from her hands. "Have you ever heard the saying "to the enemy nor water"?" She asked, frowning.

"Obviously not," Betty muttered, looking back at her coffee.

"It means that you don't show your enemies courtesy or kindness. "She explained, finishing her coffee in one gulp.

"Jughead isn't my–" She tried to say, watching Veronica go from here to there, swift as a spark, mumbling her thoughts like who recited the shopping list.

Veronica wore a beautiful cream silk pajama with details of black thread. Obviously expensive and obviously elegant.

"Right now he's as much of an enemy to you as the gladiators were, so get dressed and–"

"I don't have my clothes here ..." Betty recalled in a whisper, feeling smaller and smaller.

"You can check my clothes, we share size, I'm sure there's something you like in my closet." She quickly resolved, only stopping then to look at her with a hopeful smile. "I'm going to the shower, I want you to choose something that you like and take a shower, then we'll go down, take the car and get out of here hoping he won't see us. "Now she turned to Mr. Smithers, who had waited there in silence to be asked to leave or given a new order. "Smithers, when we've arrived at the spa and **_only when we've arrived at the spa_** you can tell him we're gone if he asks, but not where, okay?" Smithers nodded again with a small, barely perceptible bow.

"As you say, Miss Lodge."

"And you," she accused, turning her attention back to Betty. "You and I are going to give each other a relaxing day at the spa, okay? Massage, manicures, baths and maybe a hairdressing session, okay? There's no broken heart that a credit card can't heal."

 

* * *

 

"Toni, I fucked up ..." Jughead muttered under his breath, with his head resting on his hands and elbows on the kitchen table of his pink-haired friend.

Jughead had tried to talk to Betty by all possible means, but they both had locked themselves in Veronica's apartment and didn't seem to have any intention of letting anyone in, let alone him, so after a cold night outside as a lesson, Jughead gave up and went to the only place that never closed the doors.

But to his surprise, it turned out that the sin in person was visiting.

Cheryl Blossom

"I'm not going to deny you that, Jug, I was present at the scene and believe me, I restrained the urge to kick your ass," confessed Toni, slipping a cup of coffee in front of him.

Jughead muttered a "thank you" as he hugged the piece between his hands, letting the warmth of the freshly brewed coffee trickle down his skin.

"Jonesy, Jonesy ... What made you frown so much?" Cheryl asked, stroking his back in a desperate attempt to comfort him.

"Yeah ... I never thought you would even say "no" to Betty." Toni said, placing a cigar between her lips and then lighting it, letting the faint whisper of burning paper muffle the sound of her puff.

Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"T-T, how many times have I told you to stop smoking? Then you'll taste like an ashtray." She protested, raising an eyebrow.

Cheryl and Toni were completely opposite, and yet they complemented each other better than the moon and the stars: Cheryl was a girl of luxuries, Toni of slums; Spoiled Cheryl and Toni the kind of girl who swears. Cheryl smelled of cherry and rose water and Toni smelled of tobacco and leather.

The smoke escaped from her red lips when she pulled the cigar from her mouth, offering it to Jughead, who accepted it with desperation.

"It's therapeutic." Toni justified, watching Jughead hold the piece of paper professionally between his fingers for a long drag.

Cheryl, again, rolled her eyes.

"Not being an idiot is also therapeutic." She protested again. "Take a look at your calendars, my loves, the bad guys _and girls_ who smoke and wear tattoos aren't a trend since Grease touched the top."

Toni glanced at Cheryl. An intimate, ardent and significant look accompanied by a malevolent smile; _That's not what you usually say about my tattoos_.

"My dad," Jughead muttered, breaking the hot moment between the two women.

Toni sighed, worried.

"He's not improving on his thing?" She asked, wincing in pity.

"No, it's still the same, but ..." Again a drag. His eyes were lost somewhere even he didn't find. "He wants to go back to Toledo with Jellybean and my mom..."

"Wouldn't that be the best?" Cheryl asked, confused. Toni, however, had understood as soon as he said «Toledo».

"Jughead ... He was the only one who wanted to stay with FP when Gladys and Jellybean left." She explained, with a soft and light voice. "He's been... All his life trying to get his father's approval and has given him all his love and forgiveness hoping ..."

"That would help him stop feeling bad for Jellybean and mom." Jughead finished. His voice was hoarse and the knot hurt in his throat. "I thought that if I gave him everything I had... Maybe he stopped torturing himself and ... He realized that I love him and that that should be the only thing that matters ... "

There was an awkward silence in the kitchen. Jughead breathed heavily, red eyes from the effort in containing the tears. Toni and Cheryl continued with the physical comfort, sharing desolate glances.

"Last night I said something ... I suppose it affected me more than I wanted to accept ..." He continued, reminding himself, in front of his father; the bitter smile and the tears staining his cheeks. He remembered the feeling of genuine emptiness he felt with each slow beat that emitted his heart. "I told my father he should have warned me ... Warned that there would always be someone I love who would choose someone else over me ..." Against all his will, a treacherous tear sprang up, gliding, lonely, his skin. "First mom and Jellybean preferring this new family that apparently they have forged, forgetting about ours, then Betty choosing to be with Nick, who hurt her, before me ... And now my father, who prefers to run away with my mother and sister ... Than telling me he loves me looking at me in the eyes... "

"Fuck Jug ..." Toni cursed, wiping away her tears, trying not to ruin her makeup.

Cheryl, sighing, approached Jughead and framed his face, turning towards her, staying face to face.

Jughead never had a special connection with Cheryl, frankly; he had always recognized her as Toni's girlfriend or that redheaded girl in expensive heels that could pay the White Wyrm again with just one of them. But, nevertheless, he found her tremendously human, warm and close.

... Like a mother.

With her thumbs, Cheryl wiped away his tears, barely touching his face with her red manicure. She had a sad smile printed on her lips –wich were also red.

"Jughead, fortunately I haven't lived Betty's story, and our families aren't exactly similar," she began. Toni cried behind them. Cheryl's hands moved away from him to fall into her lap, together. "In fact, my family could be summed up in a sadistic Cluedo game." She joked. "You see, my mother has never been in favor of ... Well" she laughed "I was going to say that she has never been in favor of me being a lesbian, but that old harpy has never been in favor of my own existence."

»"My point, Jughead, is that the first time I felt something for a girl, my mother was so horrified, that she threatened to send me to a boarding school in Europe if she saw me again near that girl." She explained, looking down, ashamed of her own memory.

"And what did you do?" Jughead asked, his voice choked and weak.

Cheryl sighed, returning her gaze after a few seconds of rest.

"Unfortunately, I was so afraid of my mother and the idea of her not loving me, that I obeyed." She confessed, staying mute for a few seconds. "Some time later, a fucking sexy hobo appeared." She smiled finally, raising her bright eyes to look at her girlfriend, who listened attentively to the story.

Toni snorted reluctantly.

"This hobo has made you come–"

"My mother didn't make it easy for us, frankly." Cheryl interrupted, adding her cheeks to the red collection she wore today. Toni smiled cheekily. "She has done everything possible to separate us, but we love each other too much to lose our love."

There were a few seconds of silence, while Jughead reconsidered and thought about Cheryl's story, frowning.

"What I want to say," Cheryl recapped, drawing both of their attention again. "It's that although there are loves that won't come back anymore–Heather and I, you and your mother and sister–, there are others that's time to let go–my mother and I, you and your father–and others for whom you must fight, because something in you begs you to do it, because it's inside you, in your nervous system and in your nerves, fighting for the love of that person is as much a part of you as your skin and lungs. "Cheryl smiled to Jughead with hope and consolation. "Like you and Betty."

Jughead remained silent, thoughtful.

"Hey, you assholes, if you're going to make me cry, let me know and so I don't wear makeup, this crap is expensive." Toni protested, resuming her task of wiping away her tears.

 Cheryl laughed and got up from her place to go with her girlfriend, welcoming her into a hug.

"You can't ask me to stop loving my father, Cheryl ... You can't ..." Jughead muttered, still entangled in his cloud of thoughts.

Cheryl sighed, still hugging her girlfriend, who had rested her head on her heart, lost in her heartbeat.

"I'm not asking you, Jughead ..." Cheryl said. "You're asking for it yourself, and you've been praying for years."

 

* * *

 

Veronica was partially right: there's no harm a credit card can't cure.

Well, there is no massage that a credit card can't cure, but she have never seen someone sad having a massage.

"Okay, now that we've solved the massage part, let's talk about something that doesn't make me want a slow and painful death." Veronica proposed, immersing herself in the thermal waters of the spa, letting out a long and comfortable sigh.

Betty, fortunately, had obtained a swimsuit that covered the long scars that ran down her abdomen and chest, but in relation to her arms ... She could only pray that Veronica wouldn't notice.

She put one foot and then the other, feeling the water's heat climb all over her body in a chill, relaxing all the muscles that touched the water as she submerged.

"How did you get here?" Veronica asked, picking up her long black hair in a careful bun. "You don't look like the kind of girl who would join the Serpents."

Betty laughed. "Well, what about you? It seems like you had a determined life, why did things go wrong?" She asked, submerging herself up to her neck.

Veronica was silent for a few seconds, making Betty bite her lower lip, worried that she had offended her friend.

"My father works for the mafia." She confessed finally. "In fact, my father is one of the best-known mobsters of all times. In this world you have to move very, very slowly, it's like doing illusionism, you know? You have to keep the audience distracted while carefully taking a look at their cards. "She explained with a sad, almost nostalgic smile. "My mother and I were his way of distracting his clients so that he could make more profit, or so it was until ... He killed my mother."

Betty opened her eyes, horrified.

_Kill his wife? What the hell is wrong with men in this country? Does someone know how to love today?_

"That's when I decided that I wouldn't live under my father's black and terrifying veil, so I fled, I came here because I know this would be the last place where my father would try to find me." She explained, looking distractedly at the crystalline water. 

Betty swallowed the "I'm sorry to hear that". She knew perfectly how odious it was that people felt sorry for you; how power and strength it took you away, how it makes you look weak and lost. She didn't think Veronica was weak, either lost, so she didn't deserve to be denigrated by feeling pity.

Instead, Betty took a deep breath.

"I'm the most boring and sad representation of Beauty and the Beast." Betty explained, making a face of annoyance as she reduced herself to something as small as a story, as a bed time tale. "I fell in love with the most incredible boy in the world ... Or so I thought; his name was Nick, Nick was the one with the easy smiles and the empty promises ... Nick ... the one who punched and kicked." Almost as if they had turned on a switch , Veronica looked at her horrified, with a cold and serious look. "He tried to kill me as soon as Jughead left ..."

Evidently there was a lot more history to tell; how from night to day his caresses became ropes around her neck, how his love letters spoke of her cold death, how love ceased to be pampered. But little she earned by reviving ghots; Veronica knew the precise and necessary, like her, there was no need to turn her face to the past.

" Jughead knows about Nick, and he was the good guy in the story?" She asked incredulously.

Betty smiled, nostalgic.

"I wish you had seen how we looked, how we moved around the world; he appeared one night and prevented saved me from the same beating that the boy in that bar received, and since then he did nothing but steal my heart piece by piece, taking care to heal it until it beats again ... And it was for him. "

Veronica smiled sideways, admiring the way her features softened when she mentioned him.

"And what happened?" She asked. "By the way you say it, you seemed like a beautiful love story ..."

Betty sighed: "I chose to stay with Nick ... For fear of what he could do to me or to Jughead ..."

"Let me guess: you said goodbye with a romantic kiss." She smiled, joining hands in a prayer.

Betty smiled sadly, looking at the water.

"Erm ..."

"NO," Veronica ordered, frustrated. Betty didn't answer, biting her lower lip. "BETTY COOPER, TELL ME YOU DID NOT LET THAT BOY ESCAPE WITHOUT GIVING HIM A KISS."

"It's complicated ..." She tried to apologize.

"MATHS ARE COMPLICATED, THIS IS CALLED TO BE STUPID." Veronica exclaimed, letting out an involuntary laugh.

Betty, joining the fun, began to splash water, starting a war.

"Okay ,okay ...Then we need to get your true love back !" Veronica realized, giving up .

 

Betty gave her a sad smile. 

 

"V..." She tried to warn, shyly. 

 

"No buts, Betty dear , I want a happy ending. " She ended , finally resting against the rocks. 


	25. Bad decisions

_What's the point of saving the princess if I can't fuck her afterwards ?_

Betty felt her heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces each time her mind reminded her of Jughead's cold and painful words.

It had been a week since that, and even today Betty crouched inside her own body when she heard his name, even in the whisper of one of her thoughts. She hadn't seen Jughead again, and he stopped trying to contact her after three days trying.

However Betty couldn't help but asking Toni for Jughead, why didn't she see him in the White Wyrm anymore? How was he? Was eating? Was he sleeping well? Was he blamong himself for what happened?

"Betty, are you asking me this for Jughead, or yourself ...?" Toni had once asked, and Betty frankly didn't know what to answer.

Well, she did know what to answer, but she hated the answer.

But going back to today and now, Betty was sitting at the foot of Veronica's huge bed, helping her choose an outfit for tonight; Veronica had insisted that a week of mourning was more than enough and that Betty should "go back to the market."

"And this one?" She asked, holding a black dress with silver details that was above the knees. It was tight and strapless.

Betty smiled excitedly.

"You'd look beautiful, V." She announced with a cheeky smile.

Veronica frowned, keeping her smile.

"B, I'm talking about you, I'm wondering if you like it for you," she corrected, handing her the dress to come and try it on in the bathroom.

Betty sighed, defeated, rolling her eyes.

"Veronica, I already told you I don't want to go to any party tonight ..." she protested, bored of having to get that conversation back.

"Betty, fortunately, Jughead won't be your last great love," Veronica assured, immersing herself in the depth of her closet; Betty felt a pinch in her heart. "Besides, in the worst case, it will serve to make Jughead jealous!"

_What's the point of saving the princess, if I don't get to fuck her afterwards?_

Betty curled her fingers unconsciously, digging her nails into the still-sensitive skin.

"I don't want to make Jughead jealous, V." Betty sentenced, and wished her voice hadn't failed to pronounce his name.

"But you don't lose anything," she said, the voice muffled among the tons of accumulated clothing.

_Apart from my dignity and pride? You're right, it's not like I lose anything at all._

 

* * *

 

It's been a long time since Fangs saw Sweet Pea.

Although it's not that he had tried to know about him. Not since their fight.

He had arranged with Joaquin to go to a music store. His three-month anniversary with that northside boy  was coming and he had asked Fangs for help with the gift.

Fangs came out of the White Wyrm, with the bike's keys in his hand while humming a Black Veil Brides song in his head when three men he didn't recognize intervened between him and the bike.

Fangs stopped slowly, confused.

"... Can I help you, guys ...?" He asked, watching as two more men appeared and placed themselves on his sides.

"Don't you remember us, pretty boy?" Asked one of the men in front of him, clenching his fists in anger.

He had a black eye and a broken lower lip.

_Come on, show us how the girls move in Riverdale ..._

Fangs clenched his teeth in anger.

"You are the ones who harassed Betty ..." Fangs muttered under his breath, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

They approached one step, and then another, putting Fangs on alert; looking one by one the men's faces.

"We are honest people, boy ... And I remember assuring you that you'd pay for what you did." One of the men to his left threatened this time. Fangs heard someone cracking his knuckles.

"And you need six guys?" Fangs taunted, trying not to show fear, even though his pulse had tripled. "Are you that afraid of me?"

Now they were face to face; Fangs had no viable outlet. He looked into the man's eyes before him, swallowing fear.

"Call it ... Making sure the other night's incident doesn't happen again." Suggested one of the men, giving him a sharky smile that didn't bode well. "Hold him." He ordered, and then Fangs was struggling to break free from the firm grip of the two men at his sides.

The following events were somewhat confused, almost blurred in his memory; he remembered the pain in his stomach after the blows, but he didn't remember seeing a single fist. He remembered the sudden release and pain in his knees as he fell to the floor, but not at what point Sweet Pea entered the scene.

He could only explain it by saying that his attackers seemed to be sucked one by one, leaving him alone on the floor, with such pain in the pit of his stomach that he felt he was going to throw up at any moment.

When he raised his face, stunned, he saw Sweet Pea repeatedly punching one of the men, not caring at all about the disturbing ease of his neck. His knuckles were stained with blood, and Fangs noticed that it wasn't his.

 

* * *

 

Betty looked at herself in the mirror, feeling totally out of place, alone in her room.

Veronica had lent her a beautiful flight dress that was divided into two colors: the top was black and with rapier, using as straps two long ribbons that were interlaced at the nape of her neck. The bottom part was a white skirt with flight.

Her hair was pulled back in a careful bun, and her lips were red.

As much as Betty struggled with the idea of extending her arms and showing her scars to the mirror, she ended up seeing the seal of time go through her arms.

She felt nauseated when she saw her reflection.

_Veronica says I can't lose anything going out tonight ... But what if someone sees them?_

Betty reached for a jacket, sliding it down her arms.

_What if they see my cuts ...? What if they see my hands ...? And if they feel pity ...?_

Veronica entered the room, already dressed in a nice tight black dress. Her hair fell in waves on her shoulders, and she wore no lipstick. Her heels echoed in the apartment.

She passed by her, stopping to look at Betty's reflection, resting her hands on her shoulders, standing behind her with a smile.

"You look gorgeous, B!" She assured, waking a sad smile in Betty. "You're going to rock it tonight, baby."

Betty took a deep breath, trying to believe Veronica's words.

"Come on, are you ready? We should get going..." Veronica was saying, sounding like a suggestion, but already taking her purse and coat.

Betty followed her out of the room, picking up her jacket and purse, mentally reviewing while checking that everything needed was inside; keys, money, phone ...

Someone led them to a nearby bar; one of Veronica's workers, she supposed, since he was a sepulchrally silent man in an expensive suit.

There at the door, Archie was waiting for them, clad in a white shirt and black pants.

Betty felt her throat come dry, stopping in her tracks and holding Veronica to her side.

"That's Jughead's best friend, V," whispered Betty, "is Jughead here too?"

Veronica caressed her arm, relaxing her grip. She turned around, giving her a bright smile.

"Betty, calm down, only Archie, Joaquin and Joaquin's boyfriend are here, okay?" Veronica explained, letting out a small laugh at the look of distrust in her friend. "Trust me. "

Finally, Betty gave in, walking with Veronica to Archie, who smiled at them sympathetically from the door, like one of Veronica's modest workers.

"Good evening girls" he greeted with a light and calm voice "you are stunning."

Betty saw Veronica blush.

"All a gallant, Archiekins ..." She said, flapping her eyelashes like the wings of a butterfly.

Betty rolled her eyes.

"What she means is that you are also amazing, Archie, don't take it personal, Veronica doesn't compliment boys, she think that your masculinity doesn't need that extra egocentricity." Betty explained, smiling uncomfortably at the muscular redhead in front of her. 

Archie laughed, softening the insecurity in Betty.

"She's not mistaken." He confessed, guiding them inside.

It was a colossally full site; colored lights were exposed and changed and mixed together as the epic attempt tl epilepsy, accompanied by loud music and people's screams.

Betty swallowed.

 _Oh god ... Save me from this_.

  
They walked together through the crowd, Betty regretting as soon as she began to smell the sweat and concentrated alcohol on the site. Joaquin and his boyfriend were waiting for them at the bar.

"Boys, these are Betty and Veronica," Archie introduced, raising his voice so that both of them could hear him over the music. "Girls, these are Joaquin and his boyfriend, Kevin."

After an exchange of greetings and smiles, Archie suggested a round, asking what they wanted: a round of shots for everyone.

The night passed faster than the clock advanced, and Betty was less and less worried about how dazed her surroundings were and more concerned about taking two steps without stumbling.

The scandalous music and the crowd were becoming the cushioned consolation that kept her from falling into her spiral of thoughts, feeling the world spin at full speed, but leaving her completely behind.

"Hey Betty, all right?" Archie asked, putting his mouth next to her ear so she could hear him clearly. Betty felt a chill run down her back when she felt the warm wall that was his body.

Betty, dazed, turned to look at him; His eyes sparkled, probably because of the alcohol, and his lips were relaxed.

"Heeey Arch ..." Betty smiled, placing her hand on his chest. "How are you? All right?" She asked, with an obvious drunk voice.

Archie raised an eyebrow and smiled at a drunken and disoriented Betty.

"All right" he laughed, "and you?"

Betty nodded, but she had no idea why.

"Everything goes as planned, captain," she assured, making a sailor waving and trying to imitate a male voice.

Archie laughed again.

"And what was planned, cadet?" He asked, following the game.

"Bore me like a dead man," she confessed, making a pout of a six-year-old girl.

Archie laughed openly.

"You're right, this is a bit boring." He gave in, looking around. "But there's something that saves it from being a true waste of time," he said, turning back to look at Betty, a sweet smile on his lips and his voice softer, but still audible.

Betty frowned, looking around.

"The alcohol?" She suggested, looking now at her empty glass and pulling out a new pout.

Archie slightly shook his head and placed a finger under her chin, bringing her eyes to his, focused on the thin line that outlined her lips.

Betty was caught in his gaze, captive in the pattern of colorful spectra that were reflected in them; pink, green, blue, yellow ...

Without much preamble, Archie put his lips on Betty's, catching her by surprise. They tasted like shots and lime.

Betty closed her eyes, letting herself be carried by his lips, feeling butterflies grow deep in her stomach, like the mouth of a fireplace when they kindled a warm fire.

She was kissing Jughead, and his lips were soft and cold from the drinks' ice.

Her hands went to lose themselves in his hair, intertwining with the strands of hair that slid between her fingers while his hands linked her waist, with a life of their own.

She was kissing Jughead, but the world hadn't stopped turning as she expected.

  
_"Betty ..." Jughead whispered, consumed by the pain of having to let her enter the house of horrors again, clutching her hand tightly, not wanting to let her go. "Please don't go. »_

"Betty ..." he whispered again against her lips, and Betty frowned.

She moved away a few millimeters, faking a heavy breathing to pretend that she needed to take a breath and opened her eyes, feeling her heart stop.

 _It's not Jughead. It's Archie, it's Archie_.

Archie smiled, his chest rising and falling fast as they lost in each other's eyes; she with horror, he with enthusiasm.

Betty was going to move away; she was going to shake her head and mutter a "sorry" before running out of that disco, but a new memory echoed in her head.

_"What is the point of saving the little princess if I can't fuck her afterwards?"_

Betty felt her heart break again into a thousand pieces, her eyes filling with tears, the noise preventing her from thinking, caught in the echo of Jughead's cold voice in her head.

And then Betty looked at Archie.

_"What is the point of saving the little princess if I can't fuck her afterwards?"_

Betty pressed her lips against Archie's again, catching him off guard this time. Their hands lost themselves again in the other, and Betty abandoned herself to the touch and the feel of his lips on hers, comforting her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, repeating in her head over and over again Jughead's words as a cruel mockery, like a sadistic symphony.

"Archie?" Breathed Betty, feeling his lips sliding over her jaw and under her ear, getting lost in the sensitivity of her neck.

"Betty?" He mumbled between kisses and kisses; kisses that were consumed as fast as they touched the skin, leaving no trace of his presence, without memory.

"Bathroom, now." She demanded, panting, falling apart in his hands.

Archie managed to guide her through the crowd, intertwining his fingers with hers. Betty felt that the world was tottering from one place to another, but it didn't matter to her, because it was falling apart as well.

They managed to sneak into the bathroom, locking the door behind them and checking that they were completely alone.

Then they looked for each other like two magnets; His hands were everywhere, caressing, memorizing. Betty allowed herself to be guided, following his footsteps as she decided that if she thought hard enough, Jughead would be the one who ran her legs with gentle caresses.

Archie slid his hands down the backs of her thighs, picking her up to sit her on the sinks, making her release a gasp of surprise as her legs touched the cold porcelain.

Archie attacked the sensitive skin of her neck again, pressing her back against the mirror.

"Arch ..." Betty moaned, turning her face away to leave more space.

_"Nick, please, stop..." She sobbed, hands against her back, Nick on top of her, pressing her against the counter._

"Betty ..." he whispered against her ear, making her shiver. Her skin responding to Archie.

_"I'm going to teach you how to be a good bitch, so the next time I want to kill you for being a slut, you don't screw it ..."_

"A-Archie ..." Slowly Betty was losing the feeling of disorientation, being aware of the hands that devoured her and the lips that ran through her, feeling her stomach spinning and turning. "Archie, Archie stop..." She whispered, feeling weak as ever, using the few strengths she had to try to push him away, but Archie couldn't hear her. His lips burned on her skin, poisoning her, and Betty felt the tears begin to sprout and fall without fear. "Archie !!" She roared, shoving the boy away.

Archie looked at her perplexed, noticing the black tears that fell down her face, ruining her makeup.

"Betty? What's wrong?" He asked, breathless. His lips were swollen and his chest was heavy.

Betty tried to kick Nick out of her head, hearing his sharp voice rumble inside her, making her tremble.

"I'm sorry, Archie," she sobbed, lowering herself from the sink and arranging her dress awkwardly. "I can't, I ..." And then, she didn't hold it back anymore; the terrible and great crying. "I can't. "

And so, she left Archie alone in the bathroom, hearing him call her, worried, while she walked among the people to the exit, feeling the tears freeze as she approached the door, cooling her face.

Betty left the place, walking awkwardly, holstered in her jacket and hugging herself to console herself.

She was grateful to leave the noise, deciding that she would walk to Veronica's house, thinking that the fresh air would be good.

The moon shone high in the black sky, and Betty felt that every minute that passed away, she became smaller, becoming tiny in a world of giants.

_"What's the point of saving the little princess if I can't fuck her afterwards?"_

_"I'm going to teach you how to be a good bitch, so the next time I want to kill you for being a slut, you don't screw it up."_

_"Elisabeth, you disappoint me ..."_

_"Say hi to your beloved Serpent boyfriend for me, bitch."_

_"Sparkle ...?"_

_"Betty ..."_

_It all hurts so much ...I feel like I'm drowning in the darkness ,between shadows. Screaming for help, but no one can hear me..._

A light blinded her, seeing just white before hearing the brakes' moaning, crying against the road.

Betty remained static, frozen by fear.

She closed her eyes, ready for the impact, the pain, the ground ... The darkness.

But it never arrived.

"Betty !?" said a voice lost in the light.

Betty felt her legs tremble, giving in to panic.


	27. Happily Ever after... Aren't we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all : huge thanks to everyone for supporting and reading this story!! Your love melts my heart, you're all pure sunshines!!!! 😻😻😻
> 
> Second: if you ever miss my crazy writings, you can also find short fics on my tumblr riiveerdaalee-au ❤ feel free to pay me a visit !!!
> 
> Third: ⚠WARNING!! Graphic self harm!!!!⚠

"J-Jughead?" Betty sobbed, trying to cover her eyes against the blinding light of the car's headlights.

"What the hell is going on?" He asked, but Betty saw only the white light, as if it were a ghost who spoke; a memory.

Betty was going to answer when the horn of one of the cars waiting behind Jughead's car startled her.

"Get in the car," he ordered, switching off the headlights, leaving Betty stunned for a few seconds. Then, Betty walked to the passenger door and entered in silence.

Jughead looked at her for a few seconds, but remained silent and continued to drive, eyes fixed on the road.

They remained in absolute silence for what seemed like hours, and the journey seemed to have no end.

"What are you doing here?" Betty asked sharply, not turning to look at him; her green eyes danced between the spaces of the dashed line that divided the road.

Jughead let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Believe it or not, Betts, this is a mere coincidence ..." Jughead said, raising his eyebrows. "I didn't even know you were going out today–"

"You didn't need to know," Betty cut in, raising her voice a little.

"I know, I didn't mean–" Jughead added quickly, also raising his voice.

"You didn't mean? You didn't mean what, Jughead?" Betty scoffed, frowning and turning to look at him, raising her voice even higher.

"Betty !!!" Jughead yelled, taking one hand off the wheel as if it were burning, still with his eyes attached to the road. Betty was silent, looking at him angrily. "God, calm down!" He prayed, returning his hand to the steering wheel.

Betty crossed her arms, turning to look out the window; the lights lit the road, looking like a horror movie. The muffled engine noise prevented Betty from throwing herself out the window.

They remained for a long time in silence, ignoring each other.

Betty clenched her fists tightly, feeling the nails break the skin again; the stinging spread through her hand, a cramp, but didn't awaken in Betty another desire other than pressing harder.

Jughead looked away for a few seconds from the road, inevitably falling on her hands, on her white knuckles pressed against her dress. He returned his gaze to the road before speaking:

"Betty, I swear to you that I'm not following you, really." Jughead said, the voice relaxed and low. Betty felt a chill run down her spine. Jughead was silent again, just a few seconds to think his next words. " What happened to you? "

Betty plunged her nails with greater force, feeling the moisture of the blood stain the tips of her fingers.

"What are you talking about?" She asked anyway, with irritation and surprise, faking only the latter.

"Betty, you're shaking, you have tears in your eyes and don't think I can't see what you're doing with your nails, but you know I can't let go of the wheel, please don't do it," he begged, giving her a begging stare.

Betty cursed him under her breath, in spite of herself, giving up and opening her hands again, wiping away the traces of blood.

"Veronica took me to a nightclub." Betty confessed, her voice still cold and distant.

"I assumed it because of the dress." Jughead smiled. "You're beautiful, by the way," he added.

Betty frowned, annoyed with herself for blushing. It was Jughead, he just wanted to take her to bed.

"She wanted to hang out, and, quoting her words:" to hunt a new pony to ride. "" She continued, emphasizing this time, glancing sideways at Jughead, waiting for his reaction.

Jughead bit his cheeks inside, squeezing his firm grip on the steering wheel.

"Oh."

"I didn't want to, I didn't want to go out tonight ... I just wanted to stay home." Betty added hastily, slapping herself mentally; Why was she explaining? In which case, it was him who had to feel bad, not her.

Jughead nodded and decided not to mention the hickey that stood out on her neck.

 

 

Later, they arrived at Jughead's apartment, insisting despite Betty's protests that he wasn't going to leave her alone at home.

"Jughead, I know how to take care of myself." She insisted, even though she had followed him up the stairs and was already sitting on his couch.

"Betty, about a month ago they went into the trailer and murdered your dog, recreating a scene from The Godfather tucking it in your bed, I have reasons not to want to leave you alone at night," said Jughead from the kitchen.

Betty felt a knot in the pit of her stomach when he mentioned Sparkle.

"Subtle as a steamroller, Jughead ..." she replied, barely speaking, sarcastic.

Betty wondered if Jughead kept her clothes.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Jughead asked, raising his head to look at her.

  
"I took a few shots in the club" Betty confessed, feeling the red rise in her cheeks "I don't think I should drink more ..."

Betty heard Jughead laugh from the kitchen, and couldn't contain a small smile surfacing on her lips.

_"Oh, come Betts, don't get mad!" Laughed Jughead, walking after her, trying to reach her._

_Betty walked away, trying to ignore him. She was so furious that if he got in front of her, she'd probably slap him._

_"Betts, Betts" He called her, reaching for her hand and automatically intertwining his fingers with hers, giving a slight tug to get her back at him, but he only got Betty to pull harder until she freed herself to keep walking. "Betty, come on, don't be silly!"_

_Betty stopped dead in her tracks, clenching her fists in anger, but not sinking her nails into her skin. Jughead stopped fastly in front of her before crashing; her eyes radiated anger. His, just fun._

_"You've put me in evidence !!" She roared, making Jughead jump, surprised by the ferocity in her voice._

_Jughead was clearly trying to suppress a laugh; he bit the inside of his cheeks, but the corners were curved upwards._

_"It was fun!" Jughead protested, surrendering to a smile that did nothing but burn her more._

_"You threw me into the dolphin's tank !!" She recalled, opening her eyes exaggeratedly, tearing out a small laugh from him._

_"Oh come on, those little ones were very nice ..." Jughead tried to negotiate, letting out a carefree laugh, but always cautious about the fire in her eyes._

_"They" a blow; a slap on the chest "had" another; Jughead laughed, raising his hands in surrender "to" three swipes "save me" another "the" other "caregivers."_

_This time Jughead caught her in his arms, pressing her against his body; Her summer dress was soaked, and drops of water were still falling from her hair. Her dress was transparent, and Jughead could see her hardened nipples through the blue fabric._

_They looked at each other's lips, he with a smile and she with persistent annoyance._

_Jughead tried to chew the laughter that was about to come out when he remembered, but still, escaped a snort. "They thought that_   
_you were a beautiful lady dolphin ... "_

_Betty, blushing, pushed away from him and walked away again, cursing his name, surname, and the day his parents had the bright idea to create._

_A free and honest laugh escaped his lips without remedy this time._

_"Betts, wait!"_

  
Jughead sat next to her on the couch, holding a glass half full of red wine between his forefinger and middle finger.

"I haven't heard from you for a long time, Betts ..." Jughead muttered, still not looking at her. _Since I was a real pig with you, to be honest_ , she would've dared to finish. "How are you? How is living with Veronica going?"

Betty wanted to be furious. She wanted to hurt him the same way he had hurt her a week ago, but she couldn't look at Jughead Jones in the eye and feel angry. Not when he used such a soft and humble voice. Not when he didn't dare to look at her.

Betty sighed, deciding to set aside such thoughts for another moment.

"Well, if you don't notice that her closet is the size of my house in Riverdale and her incredible need of going out to party and drink with a stranger...It can be really cool!" Betty enumerated, raising her eyebrows as she mentally counted, waking up an honest smile on Jughead's face.

_Strangers, like Archie, your best friend. Yes, the one with whom I almost went to bed in the disco bathroom._

"It sounds a lot like Veronica," Jughead conceded, shaking his head.

"And ... Tomorrow I have a job interview," she announced, smiling sideways. This was them. Or they were at some point.

Jughead raised his arms in victory and grinned, excited.

"That's great, Betts!" He said. "What's the job about?"

"Shop assistant at a pet store," she explained, running her hands down the skirt of her dress to smooth it; ItIt's not that it was wrinkled, but she had no idea what to do with her hands.

Jughead's smile vanished. The light went out of his eyes, as if a black hole had absorbed it.

"Betty ... Are you sure it's a good idea after ... You know...Sparkle?" He said in barely a whisper; It was as if literally all life had been sucked from him.

Betty looked down slowly at her lap, breathing heavily.

"Good idea or not, I need the money ..." Betty muttered. "I need clothes, and an apartment and–"

"You don't need any apartment, Betts," Jughead whispered, sitting closer to her and putting his hand on hers. Betty stopped short and focused her eyes on him. "Why don't you come back here...?"

_"What's the point of saving the little princess if I can't fuck her later?"_

Betty felt her soul shrink as she heard those words rumble in her head again as she looked into Jughead's eyes.

Until today, a small part of her had tried to convince herself that it wasn't her Jughead who had said that, that it wasn't the same man who saved her from Nick, nor the same man who took her to the zoo or left her romantic notes on the window each morning before going to work. She wanted at all costs to cling to the memory of their shared time, to convince herself that they were two completely different people ...

... But it was the same eyes that spoke those words that those who looked at her today accompanied by a smile. It was the same, the same Jughead.

"Hey, Betts," Jughead urged, sitting closer to her and clasping her hands in his. "Betty, look at me." He prayed, but Betty kept her eyes closed.

_Stop. Stop it, please, he can't be the same! Jughead would never say something like that! Please, please, stop this ..._

"Betty, please look at me," he insisted, and Betty surrendered to the anguish in his voice.

She opened her eyes, forcing her mouth trying not to break into tears; her eyes were so glassy that they gleamed against the light of the lamps.

And she looked for the blue of his eyes, but found nothing but the darkest darkness swallowing it.

Because they were the same eyes.

When Jughead saw the first tear fall without hearing a mere sob from Betty, he knew that none of this was about Sparkle; he knew it was because of them, because of him, because of what he had done to her.

"Betty, I didn't think anything of what I said that night ..." Jughead whispered. And he whispered because knowing she was crying because of him had left him absolutely without strength.

Betty took a deep breath and clenched her fists hard.

"I think I should go." She said, in a voice so weak and withered, that she seemed to be dying as she pronounced them.

And that's how it felt.

She was closing the door to Jughead, her past, even to herself.

Betty stood up slowly, grabbing her purse. Jughead stood up beside her ipso facto, trying to stop her, with quick, hurried movements.

"Betty, please listen to me." He begged, reaching for her hand and entwining his fingers with her, but Betty turned quickly.

Remembering the last time he saw himself in this situation, he took a step back, scared, preventing the slap that never came.

The tears no longer fell one at a time; her eyes were going crazy in tears.

"LISTENING TO YOU !?" She barked, so loud that Jughead feared she was hurting her throat. "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO LISTEN TO, JUGHEAD!? ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PROMISE? ARE YOU GOING TO BEG ME TO STAY WITH YOU?"

Jughead swallowed hard, processing the lump in his throat. He felt tears coming to him, and he hated himself for it; This was Betty's moment, he had no right to cry.

"You manipulated me like a puppet." She laughed bitterly, not caring anymore about the tears that fell down her cheeks without control. Who cared if she cried in front of Jughead?

"Betty, no, it's not like that ..." Jughead tried to explain, his voice trembling and almost disappeared.

"Was it funny?" Betty asked. Her voice would be choppy if she wasn't completely lost in tears and sobs. Jughead didn't dare ask what she meant. "Tell me, Jughead, was it funny to lie to me and make me believe all that was true just to take me to bed?" She asked again; Betty was spitting poison. She wanted to hurt him, she wanted him to feel the same pain that she had felt. Jughead Shook his head slowly, preventing her next words, raising his eyebrows in warning.

_"Betty, don't do it. Don't say it."_

But Betty was sick of being silent.

"Because it was worth it when I got home and Nick insulted me or hit me." She confessed, and everything seemed to fall into a cold silence, everything had been mute, paralyzed. Betty structured a painful smile without strength, "I thought of you when Nick hit me."

Jughead closed his eyes, trying to erase her words, trying to forget them.

He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve to be the safe place Betty went to. He didn't deserve Betty.

"Betty, stop ..." he whispered in a withered prayer.

_If you continue, I don't think I can handle it._

"I kept telling myself over and over: for Jughead, it's worth it, Jughead will come in and kiss the bruises, Jughead will make me forget him."

And finally it happened: a lonely tear slid down his cheeks.

She had made him cry, and even though she just wanted him to know how he had destroyed her, she didn't feel any better.

"Betty, none of that was a lie," Jughead assured again, looking into her eyes, both bathed in tears. Jughead was trying to suppress the sobs, and it was a horrible sight.

Betty began to curl her fingers, sinking her nails into the skin, hissing as she felt the nail touch the still open wound.

"You just wanted to take me to bed ..." she sobbed, squeezing harder and harder. Betty was beginning to feel the warm wetness at the tips of her fingers.

Jughead watched in horror as red shadows began to appear between her fingers.

Quickly, and practically in an involuntary movement, he approached Betty in two hurried strides, closing the distance between them.

His eyes were wide open, and his movements were quick and clumsy, undecided, not knowing how to act.

"Betty, stop." He prayed, and there was urgency in his voice, but Betty didn't hear him, didn't want to.

She kept digging her nails into her palms, feeling the heat rise and expand.

"Betty, stop! You're bleeding!" Jughead protested, grabbing one of her hands and trying to intertwine his fingers with hers to stop her. "Stop, please!"

Betty looked him straight in the eyes, as if she wanted to see beyond his irises. She frowned, and seemed to be relaxing her hands.

They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds. Jughead was still holding her hand, and his was still trembling.

"Does it hurt you when I hurt myself?" She asked, and all the anger seemed to be gone.

In fact, all emotion seemed to have dissipated.

Jughead frowned, confused. Did she really doubt it?

"Betty, of course it hurts, it destroys me that you hurt yourself," he said, with so much intention that it seemed like he wanted to convince her. "Please, Betty, don't ..."

Betty swallowed.

Her hand opened slowly, trembling, unsure.

Blood stained her palms, thin scarlet threads soaking the lines of her hands. Her skin was swollen and red, and her nails were stained.

"Betty, if you feel ... If you need to do _this_... Hit me." He prayed, and didn't dare to meet her eyes. "Slap me, cut me, hurt me ... But please Betty, don't–"

He didn't even have an opportunity to finish his speech, when he felt the whiplash of a slap. His cheek began to burn, and he knew it would leave a mark.

Betty clenched her fists and hit him repeatedly on his chest, with the back of her fists. They were strong blows, but without intention; desperate, defeated.

Jughead closed his eyes and allowed the whirlwind of emotions that was Betty at that moment to dissipate.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you ..." she cried between each blow, letting the tears flow.

"I'm sorry, Betty, I'm so–" He repeated after each hit, but Betty suddenly stopped him by trapping his lips in hers.

Her lips were wet and salty with tears, but under the humidity, Jughead savored strawberry and vanilla from her lip gloss.

He felt something in his chest warm; _Of course she has soft lips ... It's Betty. And of course it tastes like strawberries and vanilla ... It's Betty_.

But he mentally kicked his ass when he realized he was thinking about what Betty felt like and the reasoning of the taste of her lips but he didn't seem to realize what was happening.

**_He. Was. Kissing. Betty. Cooper._ **


	28. Disasters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! Hope you enjoy ❤  
> Also, Idk how to write parrots' sounds 😹  
> We get to know a bit of Cheryl's life, but that won't be the last time, I swear. And, my loves, no worries, Swangs will come back soon ❤

**_Good morning, Cooper._ **

**_I'm texting you because ... Well, because I guess I wanted to know how are you..._ **

**_Last night you ran and, I don't know, I was worried._ **

**_I'm Archie, by the way._ **

_Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Everything wrong!_

Betty couldn't do other than firmly grasp the soft pillow of her bed and bang repeatedly on her head with it.

_Elizabeth Cooper, how is it that having a higher IQ than the average, you keep doing so damned stupid things? You're unbelievable..._

She did nothing but wish again and again that a breach would break the earth and could swallow her so as not to come out again. Maybe change her name, leave the country and dye her hair blue.

"Knock, knock, knock!" Veronica hummed on the other side of the door. "Can I come in? Yes? Perfect!" She said, without giving her time to answer, opening the door.

Betty was still buried under the pillow, but she heard the hiss of the curtains and a pale, gleaming light flooded the room.

"Good morning, Betty Boop, how's that hangover going?" Veronica asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. Betty knew when she felt the pressure on the sheets.

Without a word beyond a groan, Betty reached out for her phone, showing it to her friend.

Seconds of silence later, Veronica whistled in surprise.

"Wow, **that's** a headache," She muttered as Betty dropped her arm in exasperation.

Finally, Betty pushed the pillow away from her face, feeling the morning freshness brush her cheeks. In front of her was Veronica, dressed in a pretty white blouse and a black tube skirt that clung to her thighs, defining her waist; Her hair was pulled back in an elegant bun tied with what looked like sophisticated chopsticks, smelling of roses and jasmine, and she was barely wearing makeup.

Betty, on the other hand, was sure that her hair was all tangled up and with two big black circles under her eyes.

"What am I going to do, Veronica?" Betty whispered, leaning on her elbows. Veronica sighed and gave her a sympathetic smile. "Since when do I go around almost having sex with people I barely know in horrible nightclubs?"

"Oh, Betty Boop ... Only since the guy you want to have sex with in horrible nightclubs broke your heart." Veronica smiled wickedly, and Betty knew it wasn't malice, but compassion and wisdom.

 _Jughead_.

 _Oh, Jughead_.

Now Betty wanted to bury herself under that pillow more than ever.

Almost as if she had read her thoughts, Veronica spoke:

"Jughead didn't text you?" Veronica asked, drawing a sad, disappointed look this time.

A memory approached her.

 _His lips were soft, smooth and warm; the kind of lips that a prince has, kind of lips from a fairy tale_.

 _And he was a prince; the serpent prince_.

_Before they could realize, Jughead returned the kiss, slow, passionate and clumsy._

_His hands embraced her waist gently, enjoying the warmth under the seams of her dress, pressing against his body, praying that she could feel the speed and strength with which his heart beat_.

_Betty threw her hands to his neck, breathing heavily and sinking her fingers into his soft, tangled black locks, breathing in every pore, every whiff of his scent and praying that it would never end._

"Betty?" Veronica asked, calling her. Betty returned from her memory, feeling her cheeks burn, suffocated. Where the hell had the cold gone?

"Eh ... Uhm ..." Betty looked down at her phone, sitting up, with the sheet still covering her chest.

_Stop thinking about Jughead. Stop thinking about Jughead. Stop–Shit, you're thinking about Jughead._

Again, another memory.

_"Jughead ..." She whispered against his lips, halfway to a moan. Betty felt him stiffening under her touch, still tasting her._

_She felt the pressure in their kiss increase, passion fury and madness against her lips, and decided to open them._

"Betty!" Veronica called again, giving her a slight push on the thigh. Betty shook her head and returned to reality. "Hey, whatever morbid dream you're having, you better tell me!" She protested with a smile.

Betty frowned at her own thoughts and swallowed hard.

"Erm ... Yes, I ... He texted me." She stammered, still recovering from the stifling heat that reigned in her body. She left Archie's chat and looked for Jughead's.

  
**_"You are the answer to all my prayers: you are a song, a dream, a whisper, I don't know how I could live without you all these years."_**

**_"Good evening, Betts._ **

**_"Good morning, Betts ♥"_ **

**_"Good luck with the interview!"_ **

Of course the first message that Jughead sent would be a quote from _Noah's diary_.

Something inside her chest seemed to bloom; as if spring itself had appeared inside of her and each and every one of the flowers that she had dreamed or seen would've burned into her memory with fire, now blooming and making innocent tickle to her heart. It was a feeling that took the breath away and made her want to scratch her belly to calm the tickling.

"Betty," Veronica scolded. "If you continue to disconnect and connect back to our conversation, I swear I'll get angry."

"Sorry, V," Betty smiled, trying to keep her smile from growing too much by biting her lip. "I don't do it on purpose. "

Veronica sighed, exhausted by her apology.

"What did our young Romeo tell you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows in curiosity.

Instead of answering, Betty handed her the cell phone and practically jumped out of bed, beginning to dance as in a ballroom dance along the huge room to the closet, opening it to find an outfit to wear for her interview.

As she placed a hanger with a blue denim jacket and a white blouse with small black polka dots in front of her, Veronica read carefully.

"B ... It's not that I want to take away your enthusiadm, but ... Don't you think it's suspicious?" Veronica asked suddenly.

Betty turned to look at her, frowning in confusion, placing the hanger on a chair and turning to the dresser, opening the third drawer to get some underwear.

"What do you mean?" Betty asked back, pulling out a pale pink bra and matching panties.

"Well–" Veronica sighed, leaving the phone on the white and clean sheets. "Let's see, obviously something must have happened between you two last night that you haven't told me, so I'm not going to ask" she said, raising her hand when Betty started to protest. "I want to assume that's the reason, because the other option would be that Jughead is bipolar and has gone from begging and crying to quoting _Noah's diary_ overnight." Betty didn't try to answer this time, so Veronica continued: "B, I'm just trying to say that until a few days ago, I basically forced you to eat because Jughead had broken your heart, and I don't mean to say that he doesn't feel guilty, it's obvious that guilt is killing him, but ...What if whatever happened between you, these messages included, are a desperate attempt to take back that relationship you guys shared...? "

Betty grabbed the pile of clothes she had selected, looking at Veronica just a few seconds before looking down at the floor.

 _Jughead? Would Jughead take advantage of me? In the car he seemed genuinely concerned about what happened .._.

Veronica got up from the bed, practically seeing the wheels spin inside Betty's head. She advanced one and two steps, and a third; Close enough to be able to caress her arm without just stretching.

"Maybe I'm being paranoid, B ... But I talk to you as a worried friend ..." Veronica tried to explain, seeing Betty's smile fade from her lips.

_No, it can't be ... He kissed me!_

_-No, he didn't kiss me. **I** kissed him, I kissed him and maybe I made the mission a lot easier ..._

Betty looked up one last time, smiling fakely and weakly at her friend, who looked worried. Veronica's eyes analyzed each faction, following each tiny movement.

"I know, V." She said, in a sweet, flat voice. "Thank you, I love you. "

Veronica was still analyzing the change of lights in her eyes, trying to figure out what the new shadow dance was about.

"I love you too, B." Betty started to leave, but Veronica, terrified, tried to reach her. "Betty, wait–!"

But Betty had already entered the bathroom and locked the door.

 

* * *

 

 

"Come on, TT, I want to leave!" Cheryl whined, rolling her eyes as she pulled lightly on her girlfriend's hands.

Toni had promised to go to the cinema in the morning session, since in the afternoon she had a shift at the White Wyrm. And it wasn't that the plan had been canceled, but Toni had things to talk about with Jughead before she left, and that was why Cheryl was sobbing to her girlfriend to leave that place before catching its "hobo germs".

Toni crossed her arms over her chest and looked annoyed at her girlfriend, who continued to pout.

"Cheryl, are you aware that a) you're talking about my friends–Not just friends but my family, and b) I'm just as much of a hobo or even more than these people? I'd love to remind you that I live in a fucking trailer." She said with coldness.

Toni loved Cheryl madly, more than anything, but one thing was clear from the first time they met: gucci and imitation leather didn't fit together.

And it wasn't just the looks of Cheryl's northside friends or the comments of some elderly serpents, but Cheryl herself.

Cheryl always, always would be a Blossom; of disgustingly wealthy, judicious and punishing family. The kind of family with servants and royalty complex. The kind of family that keeps the war between northside and southside; the kind of family that looks over her shoulder–And not because of her height.

Cheryl, however, didn't seem to catch the pain in her statement, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry" She apologized with boredom. "It escaped, can we leave?" She insisted.

"I already told you, Cheryl, I have to talk to Jughead. Stay here, I'll be back in less than a rooster sings," She assured, before getting lost in the tide of customers.

Cheryl admired with a poisonous and ambitious smile how her hips wiggled with the slowness of a cat.

 _For God's sake ... Make her hurry_.

Usually, Cheryl was okay with the idea of Toni being a Serpent; It made her horny, in fact. But every time she entered the White Wyrm it was impossible to ignore the fact that this was the band that sold drugs to her parents.

She appreciated many serpents that she had the pleasure of meeting in person and seeing beyond the emblem stamped on their backs, like Jughead, Fangs or Sweet Pea, and she cared about all of them ... But they were still the same people who kept finding benefit in destroying her family in a thousand pieces, reminding her why she left Riverdale.

But it was her girlfriend, and she had to get over it as best as she could.

Cheryl waited patiently sitting on one of the bar stools, sighing.

She looked around, looking for something that could entertain her: Sweet Pea drinking, Fangs and Eddie playing pool, FP and Tallboy chatting, a couple of girls fooling around with some guys, a ghoulie coming through the door accompanied by ...

_Wait, what!?_

Cheryl almost got up, ready to run to Jughead's office and tell him that a ghoulie had entered the Wyrm when she realized who was accompanying him.

_Archie Andrews !?_

Cheryl watched intently, not wanting to make assumptions ahead of time: maybe he wanted to take him to Jughead to tell him he had stepped on serpent territory, maybe he was being manipulated, or threatened, or ...

The ghoulie bent over Archie; his long, scrawny figure gnawed at his bones, bending over himself until his lips (broken after some fight) almost touched his ear. Archie seemed to remain static while listening intently.

There was something about the nervous way he moved–or, rather, the way he **didn't** move–that made Cheryl frown more emphatically. She couldn't describe it with exact words, but it was like when a little boy tried to hide that he had broken Mom's favorite vase; It showed in the way his own pulse betrayed him. Cheryl could smell his sweat from where she was.

Archie turned to look at the man walking beside him. There was a mixture of primitive panic and faked composure in his eyes; Whatever the man said, it had stirred his stomach.

Archie and the ghoulie walked among the serpents who, distracted, didn't even realize that a hideous skeleton with greasy hair walked like a condemned man with a mocking smile, laughing at death.

_Damned hobo drunks ..._

The office doors opened as soon as Archie left, his head bowed in the opposite direction to the man who was on his way straight to Jughead's office.

Toni appeared, and Cheryl's heart skipped a beat when that skinny man passed by her girlfriend's side. Toni was frowning, so she guessed that her conversation with Jughead hadn't gone as planned.

Toni walked towards her, and Cheryl felt her legs trembling in genuine panic as the man slipped behind the office door.

"Jones can't be more of an asshole because there aren't more hours in a day..." Toni muttered as she approached; on her silver gold earrings the red lights of the White Wyrm shone.

Cheryl swallowed, nervous.

"TT, we have to talk, it's important ..." Cheryl tried to say, in such a weak voice, that only a tearful whisper came out.

Realizing the state of nerves of her girlfriend, Toni approached even more to her, holding her hands with affection; her brown eyes searched Cheryl's, worried.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Toni asked, discovering the brightness in her glazed eyes. Why did Cheryl seem to be about to cry?

Cheryl frowned and looked around, checking that neither Archie nor no one else could hear them. Her heart was pounding inside her chest.

_Please Toni ... You have to believe me._

"I-I think Archie is the traitor, babe ..." Cheryl whispered, alternating to look between Toni and the red-haired shadow that slipped through the crowd.

Toni frowned, confused ... And then her face hardened.

She let go of Cheryl's hands with disdain, looking away from her girlfriend and crossing her arms over her chest.

Cheryl frowned even more, confused.

"Toni, have you heard me?" Cheryl insisted, looking anxiously at Toni's cold expression.

"Of course I've heard you, Cheryl, the question is: do you hear me?" Toni spat, burning her with her words.

Cheryl didn't understand half a word.

"Toni, what are you talking about?" Cheryl asked, starting to lose it. She was so nervous that the voice rose to an octave.

"Cheryl, you spend all day referring to the serpents as poor, homeless, useless, drunk, unsuccessful, cavemen and I won't keep going because my tongue is burning just by repeating it. "Toni said, Cheryl looked at her perplexed, her eyes shining glassy." And now you accuse Archie of treason? "She asked incredulously." At least Archie was there the morning Sparkle died, you didn't show up! "

"Because I had no idea, Toni, you didn't call me!" Cheryl accused back, raising her voice.

"You've always thought you were better than me, better than all of us, and I'm fed up," Toni hissed through her teeth.

"What !? That's not true!" Cheryl protested.

"You've never cared for me or my feelings !!" Toni bellowed, with the tears about to erupt.

But Cheryl had been feeling her wet cheeks for a long time.

"That I don't care about you !?" Cheryl cursed, feeling her chest burn. "It's you who acts as if she didn't give a shit about me or my feelings!"

Toni didn't answer this time. None spoke a word, they didn't even look at each other.

"You know what? This date was a bad idea," Toni said, her voice cold and distant.

Cheryl didn't dare try to answer; she sighed weakly while looking at her feet.

"I think you'd better go, Cheryl."

She raised her head.

"You ...?" She swallowed when her throat felt dry. "You're not coming...?"

"No, Cheryl, I'm not coming with you," Toni said, before walking away again, getting lost in the tide of people.

_She was alone. Cheryl was alone, again._

 

* * *

 

"Good morning." Betty greeted with a bright smile from ear to ear when entering the pet store.

On the shelves and tables there were terrariums and cages showing the different animals: dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets, hamsters, guinea pigs, parrots, parakeets ... And so a long etcetera.

It didn't seem to be anyone nearby, so Betty figured the girl would be in the back room looking for food for some of the animals.

 _Woof woof_!

Tender and sharp barks accompanied the tiny teeth that bit her ankles, pulling her jeans tightly.

Betty lowered her head and discovered a small puppy with golden fur and ears larger than his own head pulling the edge of her pants with a sweet growl.

She looked around, trying to find someone who could, by chance, be the owner of the small ball of hair.

But the store was deserted.

Betty knelt next to the puppy with a loving smile, impulsively sliding her hand down his back.

"Hello, little puppy ..." She greeted with a sweet voice. "And where do you come from?"

The little dog, suddenly serious and with big eyes, dropped until he sat down and looked up, bowing his head.

_Excuse me ... What did you say?_

Betty couldn't hold the little giggle that escaped her at the puppy's innocence.

"Excuse me, I forgot to introduce myself," Betty apologized, reaching back to scratch behind his ears. "My name is Betty, Betty Cooper, my pleasure." She said, offering him her hand.

The little dog, after contemplating her palm without understanding, assumed that Betty was offering him food, so he dipped his head in her hand, sinking his small and wet nose.

Betty laughed freely, enjoying the company of the mysterious little dog, when two identical copies of the first appeared, staggering in a clumsy gallop and pouncing on him to play.

The first one, accepting the game, shuffled under the weight of his brothers, stretching his legs to get away while catching between his teeth the third's ear.

"Hey!" Betty laughed, unable to contain herself. "Can I know where you're coming from?"

Betty looked up, searching again for some clue as to where they came from, until she found a cage full of more cute little golden retrievers that one by one found the hole in the cage and climbed out of it.

"Well, well, well ..." Betty smiled, separating the three puppies. "So we have three escapists here, huh?" She put her hands on her hips, as if she were scolding young children.

Followed by a pack of puppies, Betty went to the cage, finding a hole between the bars, probably gnawed by the small dogs.

"Krrr! Krrr!" The parrot exclaimed from the counter, flapping its bright wings on its swing. It had a beautiful blue and yellow plumage. "Prrrt, prrrt !!"

Betty bit her lip, trying to swallow a laugh at such a concert.

"Shh, little parrot, don't scream." Begged Betty, dragging a huge sack of food to cover the hole in the cage and prevent the remaining puppies from escaping.

"Krrr! Krrr! Disaster! Krrr! Disaster!" Sang the parrot, raising its head.

Betty started hunting dogs, running after them to try to catch them.

"Krrr! Krrr !! Disaster!" The parrot repeated.

Betty spun around, letting the puppies escape and crossing her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

"I know this is a disaster, smartass! "Betty laughed." Now, unless you intend to help me, close the beak! "

The parrot whistled as Betty continued to run after the puppies, which scattered around the tent.

_What a day ... Where is the shop assistant? Help!!_

"Ass! Prrrt, prrrt !! Ass!" Exclaimed the parrot, singsong.

Betty was about to scold him for his bad language when the three puppies went like little soldiers to the center of the shop and sat obediently in front of the counter. Betty looked at them perplexed.

"What the–"

"Hi," a female voice greeted behind her.

Betty turned around, finding comfort when she saw the owner of the pet store, loaded with overflowing bags and her hair in a ponytail.

She gave her a faint smile.

"Hello, good morning," She replied, almost in a sigh of relief.

"Betty, right?" She guessed, Betty nodded euphorically. "Sorry for arriving so late, I ran to buy a new cage for the Retrievers, you see, they have ..." Her attention was distracted by a small ball of golden hair lying at her feet comfortably. A giggle escaped the woman. "Well, I see you've already discovered it."

Betty laughed with her, helping her pick up the little earthquakes.

"Yes, I  thought covering the hole with one of those huge bags of food would help until you arrived." Betty explained with a smile.

"Believe me, that wouldn't have worked." She laughed. "Their teeth are appearing and they're biting everything."

In the next few minutes, Betty helped the girl to get the new cage out of the car, put the newspapers, water and food, and put the puppies inside.

"Oh, sorry, where are my manners?" She apologized, covering her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I'm Stephanie, my pleasure." Betty shook her hand with a smile. "Well Betty, do you want to go into the office and we start with your interview?"

Betty nodded and followed her into a small room advertised as "Office" by a small sign with reptile tracks.

Inside, they sat down, Betty sitting in front of a common desk, Stephanie on the other side, still dressed in her formal smile.

Next to the walls were shelves loaded with folders, papers and books.

"Tell me Betty," Stephanie began, drawing her attention. "Do you have experience?"

Betty grimaced thoughtfully before answering.

"Not at stores of any kind, but I studied journalism and did some shifts at a bar to cover a friend." Betty explained, sinking both hands into the gap between her thighs.

"And tell me Betty, do you like animals?" She asked this time, almost ignoring her response.

"Yes, of course, as a child I wanted to study for vet, in fact, but my mother made me choose journalism because she said that as a vet I wouldn't even get enough to eat, and frankly I lived quite terrified by my mother." She laughed, biting her lower lip until seeing that Stephanie returned the smile.

"You see Betty, I'm not going to lie to you, this isn't the kind of business you think." Stephanie confessed, sealing her lips in a thin line.

Betty frowned, lost.

"What do you mean? "

"I mean that the animals that we sell here are abandoned or rescued animals that we can't give home by the kennel or pet adoption service ." She explained, looking at her hands, concentrating on her words; a brown curl escaped from her ponytail. "People often don't want to adopt because they believe that the animal will give problems because it has been rescued from a fight, or that it will bring parasites just for being from the street, even though we say one and a thousand times that its hygiene and care are in full force , "Betty raised her eyebrows, surprised. Actually it was a brilliant idea. "So we bring some animals here and we sell them as if they were ...""New"", and the money we raise goes to the care and maintenance of the kennel and pet adoption service."

_Wow_

"You mean, you're angels without wings, right?." Betty smiled, feeling immense admiration for the woman with blue glasses in front of her.

Stephanie laughed, blushing and ignoring her comment, moving on to her next question.

"So, would you like to work here?" She finally asked, showing her white teeth in a big smile.

"Sure!" Exclaimed Betty, enthusiastically, "It would be a real honor for me."

"Then, Betty, welcome." Stephanie announced, offering her a hand again to shake.

"Krrr! Krrrr !! Oh oh, oh oh, krrr!" There was the singing of the tell-tale parrot on the other side of the door.

Stephanie, with a smile, accompanied Betty to the door.

"That's the sign that someone has entered the store." She explained, and Betty smiled at the parrot's self-confidence.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, buddy, repeat with me–" Jughead whispered, smiling at the talkative parrot in the counter.

"Krrr! Krrrr !! Uh oh, uh oh! Krrr, buddy!" Sang the parrot, tapping the support on which he walked.

"Betty, you're beautiful," he whispered, watching around him, making sure no one was listening. "I love you."

"Krrrr! Krrrr! Betty !!, Prr, prr !! I love beautiful!!"

"No, no, no." He smiled. "You're beautiful. "

"Krrr! You're beautiful!"

At that moment, Betty and another woman came out of the little room that said "Office", both with a bright smile.

She got the job.

_Oh, of course they gave her the job, it's Betty ..._

When her eyes met Jughead's, he felt his heart froze with shock.

He had seen Betty a thousand times, but whenever he saw her, it was as if she rewrote her name in his heart again. A feeling he would never get tired of.

"Hey," he breathed, completely forgetting about her boss's presence.

"Hey you." Betty smiled, walking up to him, with a faint pink shadow on her cheeks.

"How was the interview?" He asked, looking anywhere except in her eyes; he knew that if he looked at her, every memory of their kiss would return and he would be unable to contain the urge to repeat it.

"Great, actually." The woman replied instead. "Betty, you can start tomorrow, come at nine, okay? I'll tell you your schedule."

Betty nodded and looked back at Jughead, not knowing what to say, but unable to contain the smile.

"Well, I came to ask you if you wanted to come and have a coffee, but if you're busy ..." Jughead started, babbling nervously.

Betty wrinkled her nose with tender.

"A coffee sounds great," She said, stopping the tide of unconnected words.

"Really?" He asked, excited.

Betty nodded.

"If you give her a second" interrupted the woman, radiating guilt for breaking their moment. "I need her to fill in a couple of things, but as soon as I finish, she's all yours."

_She's all yours._

Jughead felt his throat go dry.

"Sure, no problem" he smiled. "I'll wait for you outside."

Jughead left the store, and under Stephanie's wise and experienced gaze, Betty walked to the counter, holding back a smile.

Stephanie slid some papers on the counter, also offering a pen. Betty began to fill.

"Krrr, krrr !! Hey buddy," the parrot sang, drawing Stephanie's attention. "Prrr, prrr! Betty, krrrr! Tell Betty krrr! You're beautiful!"

Stephanie laughed cheekily while Betty blushed, looking at the bird with eyes wide open.

"Oh, Risqueto, how I love you" Stephanie laughed.


	30. Small beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm still alive as you all can see 😹. I'm really sorry for not updating guys, but, you know, it's the last school month, the finals are everywhere, and all. I try my best to write on my free time but... I don't actually have free time 😹😹😹 
> 
> Hope this chapter works as my apologize ♥♥

"Hello again." Betty smiled, feeling her heart speed up as soon as she left the store, meeting Jughead, totally lost in his cell phone.

Jughead raised his head as soon as he heard Betty's voice, nervous, insecure, breathless.

"Hey." He answered, putting the phone in his pocket as he approached Betty, insecure and cautious: _Should I kiss her? I mean, she kissed me yesterday, but she hasn't answered my messages..._

Betty smiled shyly, also approaching Jughead. They didn't touch each other, even look at each other; the floor seemed much more interesting.

After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality it wasn't more than half a minute, they found both the strength to speak.

"This is awkward ..." They both said at the same time. Both raised their heads, surprised to hear their own response in the other's voice. They looked at each other, and broke into laughter.

They started walking.

Some time later, during a quiet and awkward walk, they arrived at the cafeteria, Betty guided by Jughead. They asked for two coffees, hers with a lot of sugar and milk and his black.

Even when they were already on their table everything was silence hidden in the cafeteria' noise.

"Clearly we have a lot to talk about ..." Betty offered, showing him a sad smile.

Jughead nodded slowly without taking his eyes from his coffee. His long, thin fingers hugged the cup. His hair was free, and a half-curled lock fell on his face, parallel to his eyes.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Jughead ... But I can't give you what you want." Her voice was dense and thick; heavy, forced. She was finding it hard to emit every word.

Frustrated, –With himself? With his father? With the world?– Jughead ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it. The heat of the coffee was still in his palms.

"Betty, I promise you I didn't mean what I said that night ..." he groaned, desperate.

Betty let out a brittle sigh.

"Jughead, do you know who you reminded me of?" Jughead raised his head as if it were a spring. There was panic in his eyes.

He shook his head slowly, terrified; the eyes glassy, restless. Betty saw him swallow.

"Betty, don't–"

"Nick."

And to Betty's surprise, it was Jughead who had tears in his eyes.

"He used to tell me things like that," Betty murmured, her voice cold; not to Jughead, but to the memory of Nick. To the memory of her–of them. "When I came home after college, or even after being with you, if I met Nick, he used to give me a piece of his mind." Jughead was holding her gaze now, absolutely silent and sepulchral. "Sometimes I came and he was drunk ... And he hit me." Jughead closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He put his hands back on the table, exhausted. "And that's why, for all the years I've spent with Nick–with you,  I know you're not Nick, so tell me, please, why were you drinking."

_What was he doing drunk? Well look Betts, it turns out that my father leaves me, he's going to leave when I need him the most and just to play dollhouses with Jellybean and mom. It turns out that I'm alone. That I will die alone._

"My father is moving to Toledo ..." he confessed, his voice breaking. He was digging his fingernails into his own fingers and looking at the table, not at Betty.

Betty frowned, confused.

"Has he fixed things with your mother?" She asked.

**_(FLASHBACK)_ **

_Betty felt the slow beating of his heart against her cheek, feeling coined by the warmth of his chest._

_They were in their bed, still dressed up; the softness of the sheets wrapped their bodies, warm._

_"Juggie, who's the girl in the pictures?" Betty asked, her soft and calm voice that only came out when she was in absolute peace and with Jughead. But Jughead was the key element of that mix. "I've never seen her around here ..."_

_Jughead slid his fingertips up and down on her shoulder, giving her goose bumps. He sighed, and Betty descended in sync with his chest._

_"It's ..." He paused for a few seconds, chewing and assuming his own words. "It's my ... My sister, Jellyban."_

_Betty laughed sweetly, turning on herself, crossing her arms over his chest like a pillow and resting her chin on them. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders; Jughead slid his hand–this time reaching more space thanks to the palm–down her back. Her green eyes, bright as emeralds, looked at him while her pink lips gave him a smile._

_"What problem do your parents have with common names?" She laughed, with a gleaming, broad smile that caused something in Jughead._

_She always provoked something in Jughead._

_He lowered his dark lashes, focusing his blue eyes on her;_ _Her hair was all scrambled, her cheeks still pink. She was beautiful and elegant like a serial killer._

_"You don't like my name?" Jughead joked with a hoarse voice, raising his hand to sink his long fingers in the golden mane._

_Betty lowered her eyes to his lips, paying attention to the way they moved._

_"I love your name." She admitted, giving him a new smile, this time more shy. Their eyes were connected, both unable to break eye contact. Betty reached out after a short time in absolute silence, stroking the vulnerable skin of his neck with her fingertips, losing herself among the black strands. "What happened to your mother and sister?" She asked softly, "I never see them..."_

_Jughead sighed, being the first to break eye contact to admire the pattern of the sheets with embarrassment._

_"You know my father has a problem with drinking." He said, his voice had lost all brightness and ease, as if formulating sentences for the first time. "Since we lost my sister."_

_Indeed, Jughead had already told her about Coraline, the sister him and Jellybean would have had ... If she would've survived the childbirth._

_It was a blow to the Jones family._

_"I suppose you imagine the rest: dead born sister takes us to an alcoholic FP Jones who blames himself for his daughter's death, which affects my mother because she's the one who suffered the "abortion" and was the one who felt most alone, which means constant fights, mum crying, dad even more drunk and ... Voilà, my mother left home, taking my sister. I haven't seen them for four years ... "He explained, his voice now sad and switched off._

Jughead denied slowly, letting out a sarcastic snort.

"With my father still an alcoholic? No, my mother won't come back ..." He said, and for a moment it seemed like he was trying to convince himself, to destroy every bit of hope and innocence that could make him believe that his family would be a family again someday.

"Why is he going back to Toledo then?" She asked.

"For some reason, a wave of optimism and frankly childlike innocence must have drowned the few active neurons he has left and now he thinks he can make peace with my mother and my sister, he wants to start from scratch with them ... And I'm not a part of that plan, Betty ... "

 

* * *

 

"Hey ... Why the sad face?" Veronica asked, approaching a lonely and crying Cheryl. The mascara stained her rosy cheeks with black shadows.

Cheryl sobbed silently, but seeing her whimper as she choked on the crying was even more painful than watching her cry.

She looked up, sitting on the sidewalk next to the road, a few yards from the Whyte Whyrm's door.

"M-my girlfriend ... I think she broke up with me ..." she whimpered, her voice totally broken, shattered.

Veronica grimaced in apology, showing her empathy.

Cheryl had long white legs and a long red mane like the flames of a fire.

"Wow, that sounds downright awful ... I'm so sorry." Veronica tried to say, feeling bad for not knowing how to help. Cheryl trembled even more inside herself, as if she were cold, and broke back into an irregular crying. "Why are you waiting here?" Veronica asked suddenly, looking around.

"I was going to go to the movies with T-T, but now that she has broke up with me, she doesn't even want to take me home ..." She cried, trembling.

Veronica frowned, suddenly enraged; _T-T? By T-T she means Toni ?! What the hell is wrong with people in this fucking bar?!?_

Veronica didn't know the conditions of their breakup, maybe there were cheating, maybe even betrayal ... But Veronica looked at the young girl in front of her, still without a name, and noticed how painfully frightened and shattered she looked, and couldn't simply do nothing.

"Young girl?" Veronica called, standing up straight. Cheryl lifted her face again. "Take what you've brought and come with me to my house." She ordered with a friendly smile.

Cheryl frowned, totally confused.

"What?" She asked, not quite sure she had even understood it well.

"As a woman, my code of honor prevents me from leaving you here alone and sad when you could perfectly come to my house and stay with me until you find a way to go back home or directly stay with me as long as you want." Veronica offered with one of her famous warm smiles.

Cheryl looked her up and down without any subtle.

"Why would you do that for me?" Cheryl asked brusquely, distrusting. If there was one thing Toni and she agreed on, it was that you should be careful on the Southside.

Veronica smiled calmly.

"I already told you, code of honor." Veronica recalled.

Cheryl, still distrustful, looked in detail  again the young woman in front of her, too well dressed to truly belong to the Southside. She was elegant and sweet and, beyond: no trace of a Serpent jacket.

She took one last look at the Whyte Whyrm's doors, waiting to see Toni's small figure, her soft lips, her bright eyes... But the door didn't open.

Veronica extended a hand, offering it to Cheryl, regaining her attention. Cheryl's eyes climbed up her arm until they reached her face.

"I'm Veronica." She introduced herself, still offering her a firm and friendly smile. "Veronica Lodge."

Cheryl finally held her hand tightly, a smile growing on her red lips. She grabbed it tightly and Veronica helped her to her feet, pulling her away.

"Cheryl." She breathed, "Cheryl Blossom."

 

* * *

 

Betty reached out to stroke Jughead's hands, distressed.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jug ... You've done everything you could for your father and to keep him well and safe ... I know how much you care about him..." Betty said, speaking softly, looking for his eyes. Jughead didn't speak. "But ... That doesn't answer my question, Jug ... You've been through horrible things and I've never seen you drink ..."

Jughead didn't move his eyes from the coffee cup, probably already cold.

"I ..." He mumbled, suddenly feeling pure panic at the thought of having to repeat every act in his head.

When he didn't continue, Betty raised an eyebrow, inviting him to keep going.

"You ...?" She suggested.

Jughead sighed heavily, sinking his shoulders.

"I ... I told my father that ..." _That every person I loved in my life, they would always have someone that mattered more than me_. "That he should have ... Warned me..."

"Of what?" Betty asked, confused.

Jughead swallowed. He was aware that this was going to hurt her, that she was going to feel bad, and again it would be his fault. But he couldn't lie.

"Warn me about ..." _I'm not worth anything_. "That there would always be someone I loved in my life who had someone more important than me ..." _Never, never will be enough for you_. "That I'm never anyone's first choice ..."

Betty didn't need to ask. She knew perfectly well that he was talking about her, about him, about Nick. She knew he was talking about the day when Betty had to cut to the bone ...

And indeed, it was as if someone had dropped a marble slab on her chest.

Nick. 

It seems that their problem, would always be Nick.

They both remained silent for a long time, letting the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria take care of not letting them die in absolute silence. They both looked at the table, thinking.

"I wanted to stay with you, Jug ..." Betty confessed suddenly, her voice so weak that it worried her that he couldn't hear her. But Jughead raised his head immediately.

His eyes inspected her as if they were looking for the trick in a work of art; the artist's signature, the master brushstroke.

"But you stayed with him," Jughead said firmly. His voice low.

**_(FLASHBACK)_ **

_"Please, please don't do it, don't leave me ..." Jughead sobbed, his eyes watering, staring at Betty, who was trembling in his hands._

_It was night. It was raining and Betty had walked to the trailer park with the sadistic goal of breaking up with him._

_Betty choked a sob, grateful that it was raining, so she could hide her incessant tears._

_"Jughead, it's over, whatever is between us ... It's over." Betty said, her voice firm, but her legs trembling._

_She had a broken lip, and a horrible purple mark covered the thin line of her collarbone. Nick had hit her again._

_"Betty, if it's about asking you to come with me to the Southside, forget it! I'm staying here with you, always with you, Betty, please." Jughead prayed, and he could feel the desperation in his own voice._

Betty swallowed, redrawing the scene, feeling her chest burn with rage.

"Not because I wanted to ..." She whispered, turning her cup of coffee, already cold, between her hands.

Jughead breathed heavily.

"What, he put a gun against your head?" Jughead protested sarcastically.

Betty, furious at his disbelief, frowned.

"No, against yours, asshole." She barked, looking at him angrily. "Nick threatened to kill you if he kept seeing me with you."

Jughead looked puzzled, stunned. All grimace disappeared from his face, defining his lips now in a thin line.

"He wanted to take everything from me in order to own me."

 

* * *

 

"Shit, Cheryl ... I didn't know that it was ... your family." Fangs said, regretful. He looked ... different. Not as sad as before, but not equally happy. "I mean, I knew Blossom was your family name, but I assumed they were very, very, very distant relatives ..."

The three of them were at Veronica's house, who had invited them to have some martinis that always brighten the soul.

The huge couch in the living room left more than enough space for all three.

"Toni knew ..." Cheryl muttered, her gaze lost in her glass. She still got stuck when talking about Toni in  past tense. "In fact, sometimes she used a delivery to come home and see me ..."

Veronica grimaced.

Toni didn't seem like the kind of person who would do something so ... Cruel. But she had heard the last name Blossom more than once in the Whyte Whyrm; Apparently, they were regular customers.

Fangs ran his hand down her back, caressing her in a sad attempt to comfort her.

"That's downright awful ... I feel like Toni isn't aware that she's hurting you so much ..." Fangs said.

 _Or, at least, I hope she's not aware_.

"And what are you doing in the Broken Hearts Club?" Cheryl smiled sadly, turning to look at her friend.

Veronica discovered that Cheryl and Fangs had a fairly intimate confidence; they played, consoled and helped each other almost synchronized, like a machine. It was as if they were the same person.

"Yeah, lover boy" smiled Veronica, opening her eyes wide. "What's your story? "

Fangs grimaced, sad and uncomfortable, but spoke.

"I am the teen novel pack." Fangs smiled, with a curious nuance of pride. Cheryl and Veronica laughed. "No, seriously, I'm like that movie ... What was it's name? Ah, yes! _The perks of being a wallflower._ " He explained.

Cheryl smiled sideways, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm Sam and you are my Patrick?" She mocked, making the gesture of a gun with her hands and posing.

Fangs laughed, shaking his head.

"No, no ... I mean that I'm in love with someone ... Who's afraid of himself for being gay ..."

Veronica looked at the ground, distressed.

"Sweet Pea still doesn't give you any explanations?" Cheryl asked, breaking the creepy silence.

"They beat him home, Cher ..." Fangs confessed, clenching his fists tightly, speaking calmly. "When his father found out that (and I quote) he thought he was in love with a boy, he beat him up and threatened to kill him if he heard something like that again ..."

"For the love of God!" Veronica swore, standing up. The identical brown eyes of the young pair followed her. "Has a witch cursed you or something? Have you opened an umbrella inside the house? Has a one-eyed man looked at you?" Protested Veronica, offended and incredulous. "What the hell have you done in another life to deserve this?"

Fangs frowned, confused.

"What are you talking about, Ronnie?" He asked.

"First Jughead, his impossible love story with Betty, his father, his mother and sister, the traitor, the Whyrm, Betty." She had a drink of her martini, trying to calm down. "Then Betty! The sweetest and friendliest girl I've ever met falls into the grip of an abuser who almost killed her ..." Fangs and Cheryl opened their eyes, stunned; They didn't know that detail. "She probably falls in love with the love of her life, but lets him go, and now that they meet again, it seems even worse! They murder her dog, her self-harm increases and she does nothing but go run in circles with Jughead,  not knowing what the hell to do to be happy with him. "Cheryl could feel the anger and impotence in her voice. "Cheryl, your family is one of the richest in Riverdale, but apparently they have problems with drugs, and they just had to get them from your girlfriend's gang! And Fangs, you've fallen in love with your best friend, and he is in love with you, but you can't be together because of his father !! "She cried, her voice desperate. "Come on, this is already being cruel, guys."

For a few seconds there was silence; Fangs and Cheryl didn't deny what Veronica had just said. In fact, more than once they also felt frustrated by the accumulation of injustices that they had to live without any rest.

When Fangs opened his mouth to speak, two muffled laughter were heard through the door.

Cheryl and Veronica looked at each other with a radiant smile.

"What?" Fangs asked, confused. But Veronica was already running to the door of the entrance to look through the peephole.

"Are they...?" Cheryl asked, excitedly getting up from the couch to go to the hall, followed closely by Fangs.

"Are they who?" Fangs insisted, looking at Cheryl and Veronica waiting for an answer.

"Betty and Jughead!" Cheryl smiled, holding both hands in a prayer.

Veronica grabbed the doorknob with a smile, looking mischievously at her friends, who returned the gesture, Fangs finally understanding and part of their enthusiasm.

Veronica slowly turned the knob, holding her breath. She opened the door with a quick movement, and the three smiled mischievously at the two guests in front of her door.

 

* * *

 

"So I started chasing the puppies all over the store." Betty laughed, laughing with Jughead, who laughed with her.

After the coffee, Jughead insisted on bringing her home; since Betty had gone to the interview by bus, she didn't have a problem with that.

"How are you doing with ...?" He implied, giving a gentle squeeze to her hand.

_How do you handle working with dogs when they murdered yours and put him in your bed?_

Betty sighed. "Well, I'm not going to say it's easy, because there are dogs there that do things similar to what Sparkle used to do and ... It's complicated," she confessed, dropping her shoulders.

Jughead smiled at her from the side, barely the shadow of an authentic smile.

"I'm sure the parrot makes good company for you," he said.

Betty smiled to herself, remembering the parrot's words.

" _Krr, krr! Hey bud, tell krr! Krr! Betty. Prrr!!! ooh uh! You're beautiful!."_

 _"_ Oh, from what I see **you** are good friends ..." Betty scoffed; the smile on her face kept growing, at the same time her cheeks turned pink. Her eyes shone with hope and her heart beat pumped inside the chest.

They both stopped, looking each other in the eyes, in front of the door of Veronica's apartment.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jughead joked, shortening one step between them.

Betty laughed with embarrassment.

"Saying Betty, you're beautiful to a parrot?" She breathed, looking at his lips.

At some point they had moved closer to each other; Jughead could feel Betty's heart through her clothes.

"He tried to flirt with you? Damn traitor." Betty laughed at his comment, childish and comical.

"You're so im-" She began to say, interrupted by Jughead's soft lips.

At first they caught her off guard, tripling her heart rate, but, soon, Betty joined the kiss.

His lips moved slowly against hers, his hands cradling the nape of her neck. Betty felt in a cloud; Jughead in the stratosphere itself.

It was a slow kiss, a quiet kiss, but at the same time, it was a necessity; It was their need. To have, to feel, to love. It was their way of missing each other.

They separated when they heard a click, turning to see Veronica holding the door, escorted by Cheryl and Fangs, who prized the show with pride.

Jughead smiled, incredulous and ironic, still holding Betty, who had blushed so much that she hid her face in his chest.

"Good morning." Jughead greeted, now stroking her back.

Fangs laughed while Cheryl and Veronica returned a "good morning" in unison.

Jughead leaned over Betty to rescue her from her hiding place and smiled at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

"I leave you with the interrogation." He smiled, depositing a chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth. Betty looked up as he pulled away, frowning. "I'm not going to kiss you in front of those paparazzis!" He laughed, leaving a new kiss on her forehead.

Jughead walked away, saying goodbye to the rest with his hand.

Betty touched her lips, feeling them burn as she watched him turn the corner.

_Damn you, Jughead Jones._


	31. Take a hint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I just wanted to apologize (AGAIN) for being inactive. I'm on my finals and my mind rn is like a slushie :( .  
> That being said, I tries my best on the following two parts, but as I said, my mind is divided in three: maths, latin and breathing. Sooo don't expect too much. 
> 
> Bringing the musical part, wooh!! But as fast and short as flash lol, sorry for that :(
> 
> Also, before you start reading, if you want to be aware of when I'll update or why I can't update, you can find me on Instagram as @riiveerdaalee.au 
> 
> You can simply stalk my stories, don't worry, no need to follow me 😹

"As much as I love Jughead, he has to stop sending bouquets of roses, Smithers is allergic to them!" Veronica protested, halfway to a laugh, leaving the bouquet on the table in front of Betty.

It had been a week since Betty and Jughead had talked things out, and things couldn't go better.

Betty reached out, grabbing the bouquet with a radiant smile and taking a deep breath, absorbing the scent of the reddish flowers.

"Every day he sends a bouquet of roses." Betty smiled, admiring the flowers. Twelve fresh red roses.

Veronica, with her hands on her hips, rolled her eyes, unable to contain a smile of happiness for her friend. Then she went to the cupboards looking for something to accompany the coffee.

"Hey, do we know anything about Toni?" Veronica asked, her head still hidden between the doors of the pantry. "I mean, I want to think that Cheryl isn't the only one who suffers with this ..."

Betty sighed, stirring her coffee with a teaspoon.

"Jug told me that when he tried to bring up the subject, Toni threw an ashtray at his head." She said, saddened.

Veronica closed the cupboard, holding some pasta in her free hand, and turned to the table where Betty had breakfast, looking at the floor.

"Poor Cheryl ..." She mumbled, taking a seat.

 

* * *

 

Someone knocked on the door.

Thornhill was huge. At least enough for the tock tock of the door to echo throughout the house.

When she opened the door, Cheryl met the person she most wanted to see in the whole world, despite her ego.

"Toni." Cheryl breathed, drawing a shy smile, relieved that Toni was coming to talk things; _I had missed her. More than anything_.

"Cheryl." Toni greeted, looking down at the floor; her pink ringlets covered her face.

Cheryl didn't know how to keep her smile from growing. Her heart was pounding in her chest, suffocated.

"T-T, I'm glad you-"

"Is your brother there?" Toni interrupted, finally pulling her hair out of her eyes with a slight shake of the head. Her brown eyes had turned cold; or, perhaps, they always were.

Cheryl lost all color and voice. Her heart broke into a thousand pieces, but, so silent, that Cheryl mistook it for a heartbeat.

The smile faded slowly from her lips, as red as her own blood, as Toni's words repeated over and over again.

_"Is your brother there?"_

Drugs. Of course, the only reason Toni would come to see her would be to get more money out of her family while it was still falling apart.

Cheryl crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she could be the mentally unbalanced Betty, and be able to dig her nails into her palms until they bled.

_If this is what Betty has been feeling all this time because of Jughead ... She's a saint._

"Really, Topaz?" Cheryl barked, clenching her teeth tightly. "Don't you consider this even cruel?"

Toni shifted her leg weight, emitting a bored sigh.

"Is your brother here?" Toni insisted, crossing her arms over her chest, rattling the leather of her jacket.

Cheryl licked her upper teeth, rolling her eyes to hide the tears.

Without more words, Cheryl left Toni alone, in front of the door. Her high heels echoed along the landing and she walked up the stairs to her room.

Toni, after another sigh of rage, exclaimed her brother's name, probably still from the doorway.

"Blossom, I've got your order!"

Cheryl felt her heart clench when her older brother passed by her, head down and hurried step. If there was already silence in the Blossom house, now it seemed that all life had been exterminated.

Cheryl stopped short. Deep breath.

_No tears, Cheryl. Only the weak ones cry._

She heard her mother's voice repeat again and again inside her head.

Almost like the bell that saves the children condemned to the blackboard, a laughing "ding" took Cheryl out of her asphyxiating spiral of thoughts; her phone. She had a new message.

 ** _"Hey Cher, will I see you tonight at the karaoke?"_** Fangs's message said, accompanied by a smiling face with its tongue out and a snake.

Like a light bulb, an idea in her head lit up.

 ** _"Didn't I know that there was a karaoke night today?"_ **Cheryl returned with false innocence. She walked to her room and sat with a malicious smile on her lips on her bed.

**_"It is for the eighth anniversary of White Whyrm at Jughead's hands, we must celebrate that it only came out burning once!"_ **

Cheryl chose not to wonder why the White Whyrm might have burned out, but nevertheless her fingers flew fast across the screen, typing her response.

**_"Then, count on me! There is no snake or broken heart to stop Cheryl Blossom from a delicious karaoke."_ **

 

* * *

 

  
"How'd it go with our Prince Charming?" Stephanie asked, throwing some feed into the retrievers' litter.

Betty felt her cheeks burn, grateful that her boss couldn't see her.

"We're fine, tonight there's a party at White Whyrm for its eighth anniversary! Why don't you come?" Betty suggested quickly, trying to change the subject.

Stephanie stood up, taking the bag of feed–which was bigger than her–back to the warehouse. Her long mahogany hair was gathered in a quick and careless bun.

"Sorry, I wish I could, but I've got my boyfriend at home ..." She explained, losing herself in the store, away from Betty's sight, who frowned.

"You sound like my mother's letters to my father wishing that his new and younger girlfriend would turn out to be a lunatic and sticks his scrotum on the inside of his thigh."

Stephanie laughed when she appeared again, staying on the other side of the counter while Betty tried to deal with one of the retrievers, who didn't stand still while she tried to heal a wound that had been done on the little foot with one of the bars of their cage that had been broken.

"Ugh ... Call me paranoid, but I think he's cheating on me ..." Stephanie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter and then resting her head on the same hand.

"You think?" Betty hinted, holding the puppy between her arm and chest as she tried desperately to bandage its leg.

Stephanie began to play with the pen that was on the glass surface.

"Well, saying I just **think** he's cheating on me is to be pious with him," she said, concentrating on the figure that danced between her fingers. "He comes home always late, receives messages and calls that make him run to the bathroom ..." She sighed. "... And ... I found a bra in his car ..."

Betty was now cradling the puppy as it tried to reach her ponytail, which bounced from side to side as she swung.

"What!?" Betty exclaimed, horrified. "And what makes you keep dating that asshole?"

"Well, I don't want to be alone, Betty ..." Stephanie protested without enthusiasm or strength.

"Steph, I know that the idea of being alone is scary ... But, believe me" a sad smile appeared on her face "it's better to be alone than with a monster–Than with someone who makes you suffer."

Her boss smiled at her with the same weakness as her sighs, reaching out to scratch the little puppy behind the ear; its eyes were closing.

"Thanks for the advice ..." She said, barely in a whisper, raising her eyes to look at Betty, who was still smiling. "...Sissy. "

Betty and Stephanie laughed at the same time, both looking at the little puppy that was resting in Betty's arms.

"By the way, are you going to have a super date with your boy at the White Whyrm party?" She asked, standing up.

"Nah, it's a bit innocent fun: drinks, karaoke, pool, poker ... You know, a biker bar run by a guy barely twenty-five years old." Betty laughed, shrugging.

Stephanie, with a smile, started walking towards one of the shelves distractedly.

"You two are the living representation of Grease." She sighed with a faint smile, looking through shelves for something concrete that Betty couldn't figure out.

"What? No, not at all."

Her boss laughed with a clean laugh, giving her a suspicious smile accompanied by a wink while  
she began to hum.

_I got chills_

_They're multiplying._

_And I'm losing control ..._

_'Cause the power you're supplyin'_

_it's electrifyin '!_

 

 

* * *

 

Soon night came and the streets of Southside seemed to come alive; the streetlights were illuminated like Christmas trees, people went out into the streets, the sun was hiding and the stars took the leading role. The world seemed irresistible from the inside of Veronica's car with the music playing loudly while Cheryl, Betty and Veronica gave it their all.

"Ladies, I want you to give fucking all tonight," Veronica ordered with a proud expression and a promising smile on her lips; the dark red highlighting the chestnut in her eyes. The gold of her shadow highlighting her black and wavy hair.

Betty and Cheryl hit the five as they launched a war yell.

Betty wore a low-cut, short, electric blue dress that was strapless, rising in vertiginous black heels. Her hair fell in waves over her bare shoulders and her lips gleamed with the reflection of the street lamps as they passed.

Cheryl, on the other hand, had decided to embrace the darker side of her closet: a tight corset decorated with small chains that crossed her torso, highlighting her breasts. Black vinyl pants defined her long and utopian legs, finished on platforms with straps as laces.

Veronica, on the other hand, had opted for a red dress like her own blood, short and tight and black heels to accompany. The hair, smooth, collected on one side of her head.

"Cheryl, are you okay? With Toni there, it must be hard ..." Betty asked, worried, turning to look at her redhead friend.

At first, Cheryl's arrogant attitude had thrown her back when it came to tying bonds, but as Cheryl was healing her broken heart, Betty realized that what Jughead had told her about her weren't mere legends, but that Cheryl was truly as sweet as a candy.

So, after all, their friendship was only a matter of time.

"Betty Boop," She said, her voice bright and cheerful, though distracted. Apparently, calling her Betty Boop had become a trend in her group of friends. "Even though Topaz doesn't seem to have a problem with breaking me up and being cruel, you can't beat a Blossom in that field, let alone Cheryl Blossom herself. Tonight, I'm going to make her see that she's been a cold bitch, and then I'll look for another hook-up. A beautiful serpent girl who would like to have me in her bed ... "Cheryl confessed, adorning her face at the end with a malicious smile.

Oh yes, the dark side of Cheryl Blossom.

Betty was glad to discover that she wasn't the only one with a dark side: Cheryl could be machiavellian at times, Veronica could be the goddess of torture in bed, apparently. It is true that Jughead and Betty had spoken at times about that we all have a dark side and that there's nothing wrong with that, but Betty still felt as if, being the only woman she knew with such a problem, meant that she was broken, in some appearance. But knowing Cheryl and Veronica had really saved her from self-destruction.

"I still wish we had decided to sing Survivor together" protested Veronica, drawing a pout with her lips. "A pity not having a broken heart or to burst out of pure love." She scoffed.

As soon as they spotted the walls of the White Whyrm, Veronica ordered Smithers to stop the car. The three women left the vehicle, meeting Jughead and Archie at the door.

Betty ran –as she could– into Jughead's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck as they both melted into a smiling kiss. Cheryl waited, rolling her eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh.

The lights of the White Whyrm crashed against the asphalt: reds, greens and yellows shone like impossible dawns and the music could be heard from where they were.

"They're two lovebirds ..." Veronica pointed next to Archie, who threw Betty and Jughead a curious look and smiled at Veronica, according to her.

"Hey," Jughead whispered against Betty's lips, lost in the glow of her green eyes. His hands encircled her tiny waist and his mouth needed hers.

Betty let out a silly schoolgirl giggle excitedly, wrinkling her nose while her cheeks flushed.

"Hey," she whispered back, standing on tiptoe again to brush her nose with his.

"Danny Zucko and Sandy, if it's not too much trouble to interrupt your summer reunion, can we get in? I need a shot," Cheryl growled, already walking towards the door.

Jughead arched an eyebrow at the thin girl, smiling incredulously.

"Harpy ..." He smiled, causing a guilty laugh in Betty. "Come on, let's pay attention to the really bad girl before she turns us into stone ..."

"I'm hearing you, cheap parody of Grease." Cheryl barked again.

The four laughed, finally obeying and walking towards the White Whyrm.

  
The inside of the bar turned out to be much louder than it augured from the outside: AC / DC on the speakers, sound of glasses crashing, laughter, jokes and animated talks between old friends. The place was overflowing and the waitresses were going from one place to another at the bar.

"You guys want me to order some drinks?" Archie asked, smiling sideways as he arched his eyebrows inquisitively.

Betty ordered a beer, Cheryl a Bloody Mary, Veronica a Gin and Tonic and Jughead, at one last moment, changed Betty's order.

"Make it be a Zombie, Arch." Jughead smiled wickedly. Betty turned on her to look at him, with a raised eyebrow. "You'll have to drink slowly ..." He mumbled as Archie walked away to the counter.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Jones?" Betty purred, sliding her fingertips along his jaw. "Are you going to take advantage of me?" She asked innocently.

"Some profit I'll have to get from being the bar owner." Jughead answered, in such a low voice, that it was born hoarse.

They approached the pool table, where Sweet Pea and Fangs played. Betty and Veronica received them with enthusiasm.

"Guys, what a joy to see you without trying to stab each other!" Veronica smiled, joining her hands as if in a prayer.

Fangs smiled sideways, raising his head to look at his friends. Sweet Pea was on the other side of the table.

"We are best friends," explained the taller boy, shrugging his shoulders "we couldn't let the slip of a drunkenness end our friendship."

Cheryl facepalmed while Jughead let out an experienced sigh; It wasn't the first time he'd heard that.

Archie arrived with the glasses and they began a quiet talk. Cheryl was strangely quiet.

"Juggie, will you help me with the drink?" Betty asked with a pout, fluttering her thin lashes.

Jughead placed his hand on the lower part of her back, causing Betty to run a warm chill all over her body.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Cooper?" Jughead shot back, his voice low and his eyes darkened by the mere hint.

Betty, instead of clenching and reddening, raised her chin, placing her lips at his height.

"Maybe a little," she purred, raising her hand to his face, cradling it. Jughead placed his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. Their lips closer and closer.

Her mouth smelled like the cherry brandy that made up the cocktail; her breath was warm and his lips urged hers. They were a few millimeters from the kiss, but then...

"I have to pee." Betty whispered with a shy smile.

Jughead raised his eyebrows, stepping back with a wry smile.

"What a way to kill the mood," he mumbled before letting her go.

Betty wiggled through the crowd, losing herself in the crowd until she reached the counter. Once Jughead had lost sight of her and had made sure both Cheryl and Veronica were distracted, he leaned toward Sweet Pea.

"Let's get started," he whispered, his face rigid as marble itself and his voice low.

Sweet Pea just nodded.

  
  



	32. Let her burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo  
> I swear I'll start coming more now that school has ended
> 
> WARNING! THINGS GET HOT IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
> #prayforBetty

Since the Sparkle incident, Jughead had barely glanced at the desperate quest to find out who made the terrible mistake of threatening Betty. Only he and Sweet Pea knew about his investigation; Jughead didn't trust anyone else.

Archie, meanwhile, had moved away from the pool table.

"Toni," Betty smiled. "Do you need a hand behind the bar?" She asked innocently.

Toni smiled sideways, taking three shot glasses from under the counter.

"Even though I'd die to see that nice ass of yours back here, Cooper, I'm sure it would be against Jughead's interests." Toni teased, pulling out a bottle of Vodka.

Betty rolled her eyes with a smile; In general, she would've laughed and ignored her suggestion, but today Betty felt powerful. The dress? The makeup? The night? Only god would know how to say it.

"Jughead doesn't control me," Betty said proudly, raising her chin with a radiant smile.

"Well, anyone would say ..." said a voice behind her; Mellow, safe, suggestive ... But subtle.

Betty frowned and turned to look at the owner of the voice, meeting no one else and nobody except ...

"Archie ..." Betty greeted with an uncomfortable smile, breathing deeply.

"Wow, I'm glad to know you remember I exist." He mumbled; his words had the subtlety of a rat poison.

Betty looked past Archie, looking for Jughead's figure among the crowd, lost in the ocean of lights. She searched for his curls, his eyes, his shoulders ... But she couldn't see him anywhere.

"Archie, what happened that night ... Was a mistake." She tried to explain, keeping calm. "It was wrong for me to use you to forget Jug, but ... I want to be with him, Arch ... And I hope that doesn't affect any possible friendship that could be born between you and I..." She said, with a smile sweet.

"Cooper, is he bothering you? Do you want me to kick him out?" Toni asked on the other side of the bar, giving the redhead a warning glance, who didn't feel attacked, far from it.

"No Toni, it's okay, don't worry," Betty said, keeping her eyes on Archie, who was silent, with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket; the lights of the White Whyrm were reflected in his eyes.

"Then, you have to go up and sing, little girl," She announced with a smirk.

 

* * *

 

"Girl, girl, girl" laughed Veronica, swaying from one side to the other, staggering with her heels. "Tell them to turn on the light, I can't see anything!"

Cheryl laughed, balancing from side to side with the drink dancing inside her glass.

"Silly, your eyes are closed!" Cheryl exclaimed, leaning on Jughead.

Jughead smiled sideways, moderately amused by the spectacle that the two girls offered; but, on the other hand, he was restless. Why was Betty taking so long?

Perhaps it would be a suggestion to be alert to any unusual movement or face in search of the traitor, but the idea of having Betty away and, moreover, not knowing exactly where she was, made his hair stand on end.

Fed up with looking from one side to the other, Jughead decided that staying there wouldn't do much good.

" 'Pea, I'm going to look for Betty," announced Jughead, his voice firm and serious, despite the fact that his pulse was trembling. Sweet Pea frowned, looking around for the dancing blond ponytail. When he was unable to find her, he nodded to Jughead.

When he began to leave, the music stopped and everyone turned towards the small stage they had managed to form. The spotlights pointed to the tables, and on it there were two figures.

"Serpents" greeted Toni with a sardonic smile, making a standing ovation of men and women of different ages. "As you may know, this is the eighth anniversary of the White Whyrm under the command of our not-at-all-hated Jughead Jones," they all clapped, turning some to look at Jughead. "So we wanted to do something different, declaring this as the first night with karaoke on the White Whyrm, enjoy and, please, no one let Tallboy sing!"

Toni left the stage, followed by a shadow of laughter of mockery to the mentioned serpent. A single figure was left alone on stage, with her back to the audience.

The music started to play.

1 ... 2 ... 3 ...

"Why am I always hit on by the boys I never like?" Asked the mysterious figure, turning on her heels to finally confront the audience: Betty and her golden curls bathed in the decaying light of the White Whyrm. Her electric green eyes shining as they danced from side to side with the safety of a tigress.

Jughead let out a breath of air while a discreet smile was drawn on his lips. Veronica and Cheryl cheered excitedly as Fangs, Sweet Pea and Jughead clapped with devotion.

"I can always see them coming from the left and from the right" She sang, pointing to one side and another with self-confidence. "I don't wanna be a priss, I just trynna be polite "continued making a pout with her lips" but it always seems to bite me in the ... "her legs were slowly bending, falling more and more, her lips no longer reflected an innocent pout, but the shadow of the devil himself, wiggling her dizzying curves from one side to another.

With slow but elegant steps, she descended the stairs of the stage, creating a circle around her. Her eyes shone under the spotlights.

"You ask me for my number, yeah, you put me on the spot" She sang next to one of the men, who was smiling on her side, admiring her body. Jughead felt his blood burn when he saw how the man's hands, like magnets, went to her hips. "You think that we should hook up, but I think that we should not" continued singing Betty, putting her hand open on his chest as a warning, to which the man responded by raising his hands in surrender. The applause of the crowd marked the beat. "You gave me a hello, then you opened up your mouth and then it's going south, oh!"

Betty walked away from the man with a chorus of people around her, laughing when she rejected him. The cheers of the women were heard above all shouting of no man.

 _Get your hands off my hips or I'll punch you in the lips, stop you staring at my-HEY!_ The women exclaimed in unison, like a kind of war cry. _Take a hint, take a hint!_

Betty continued to unfold across the length and breadth of the White Whyrm, completely winning the hearts of all the men on the premises and the pride of all the women. Toni cheered from behind the bar, as did Veronica and Cheryl, except that Toni wasn't drunk.

Jughead, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes from her bright green emeralds, which seemed to glow with their own inner fire.

Betty walked to Veronica and Cheryl, who clapped and laughed when Betty leaned over them and sang together, completely oblivious to Jughead's presence: "No you can't buy me a drink, let me tell you what I think, I think you could use a mint, take a hint, take a hint ..."

Sweet Pea nudged Jughead in the side, giving him a meaningful look. «Dude, this woman is a beast. »

_Oh, but Jughead was fully aware of it._

And, almost as if Betty had been aware of their mental conversation, she approached Sweet Pea, who seemed to have seen a ghost when she was in front of him, suddenly all pale and trembling.

"Wow, 'Pea, where's your smug smile now" Jughead thought with a smile on his lips, watching Betty wiggle her hips from side to side as she attacked Sweet Pea.

"What part of 'no' don't you get? So go and tell your friends, I'm not really interested" exclaimed Betty, stabbing Sweet Pea with her finger. Sweet Pea did nothing but deny and nod, scared to death. "I'm gonna count to three and open my eyes and," she sang, now raising her hand to point at Jughead, who raised his eyebrows, surprised. "You'll be gone ..." This time, a delicious smile adorned her thin lips as she approached him. "Take your hands off my ..." Jughead placed his hands on her hips, defiantly, pulling her to him with pride. "Or I'll punch you in the ..." their eyes met, then lost themselves on the other's lips "Stop staring at my ...!" Betty sang, turning suddenly as they threw a new and furious' hey! ' Betty pressed herself against his body, letting the warmth of her skin penetrate the fabric. Jughead sank his fingers into her hips as his lips traced her neck from top to bottom. "Take a hint, take a hint I'm not your missing link, let me tell you what I think: I think you could use a mint Take a hint, take a hint!" Betty continued, snaking down the path of Jughead , with her back still against his chest. "T-take a hint, take a hint ... Oh! Get your hands off my hips" almost as if Jughead burned, Betty swatted her hands away and smiled fiercely at the confusion in his eyes as she turned to look at him . "Or I'll punch in the lips" Betty walked away the same way she came: with her radiant green eyes fixed on Jughead and her waist swaying from side to side like the wiggle of a cat. "stop staring at my-Hey! Take a hint! Take a hint! T-take a hint, take a hint!"

The music reached its highest point and died with the same energy that was born, leaving a smiling Betty satisfied with her show in the middle of the bar.

Evidently, everyone began to clap and cheer, even in the height of her performance, while Betty ran, blushing, to the table with her friends. Or, more specifically, to hide in Jughead's chest.

_Jughead, whatever you do, don't ket her notice that you're hard._

"You've done great, Betts, I loved it ...You've left everyone with their mouth open!" Jughead smiled at her hair, feeling her arms tighten around him.

Betty stood on tiptoe, lengthening her neck until her lips were next to his ear; a smile decorated her thin lips.

"I see you've loved my performance ..." She whispered, with the sweet suggestion of a sigh. The hot air against his ear gave him goosebumps.

Jughead raised a mischievous smile, still very close to Betty, their bodies almost touching, radiating heat. 

"Betts?" Jughead called, with a trace of laughter lost in his voice.

Betty, squeezing her legs together, feeling her body tremble with his voice and the power he had over her, made an inquisitive sound halfway between a sigh, inviting him to continue.

Jughead slowly pressed his body against hers, clasping her between his arms, while Betty let out a desperate gasp as she felt the friction in her central area.

"Don't play with fire ..." he whispered, and this time his voice was low and raspy.

Betty felt that it didn't matter how much she squeezed her legs.

She looked around: Veronica was cheering (drunk) Cheryl (drunk) up on stage and singing "If you can't hang" from Sleeping with Sirens. Sweet Pea and Fangs were nowhere to be found.

Then she refocused on Jughead.

They stared into each other's eyes, like two lost moths searching for a source of light. They were both so close that they felt the other's pulse through their clothes; hurried, run over, incongruous. Something that was uniquely theirs.

Betty moistened her lips, making sure his eyes went to her and watched her tongue glide quickly over the red surface.

"I don't mind getting burned, Juggie." Betty suggested, barely in a delicious purr that definitely did something to Jughead.

Without taking his eyes off her, he grabbed her hand and pulled her, losing himself among the people.

Betty's heart was beating a thousand times per hour; her head was no more than a bunch of hysterical thoughts, nervous, tempted and desperate that ran in all directions shouting "fire, fire, fire."

_Are we really going to have sex for the first time in his office?_

She thought, while she finally saw the doors of his office appear, poorly announced with a small plaque that read 'Jughead Jones'.

Jughead turned around before closing the door to make sure no one was watching and then turned to Betty, who was waiting, panting, by the table, holding her hands with the innocence of a schoolgirl.

He took one step, and another, closer and closer to Betty, who stepped back until her legs buckled on the surface of the table, sitting down.

"You've been a very bad girl, Betts." He said. His voice had lost all fun tinge, all innuendo, all companionship. Now it was rough, hot, thick ...

 _Dominant_.

Betty swallowed hard, feeling her throat throbbing suddenly dry. Her eyes followed the dark gaze of Jughead, which seemed the most terrible thunderstorm.

The music was muffled from outside his office.

"And ... what do we do with the bad girls, Betty?" Jughead asked, sliding his hand through her hair, carefully placing it behind her ear.

If Jughead's dirty mouth and his encouraging threats were not enough, Betty was extremely sensitive to his touch; Whichever place he touched, Betty experienced it as an electric shock throughout her entire body.

Jughead then stopped to look at her in the eyes; his soft lips, his dark eyes, his thick black hair that she was willing to pull.

"Well?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow and now sliding both hands along her bare legs, ascending slowly. Betty felt the heat climb with his fingers.

"P-punish them ..." Betty stuttered, voiceless. Her breathing was getting heavier, more absent.

Jughead smiled sideways, proud of the sudden absence of voice in Betty. He felt the warmth in his hands.

"Tell me Betty, have you been a good girl?" Jughead asked, sinking his face into her neck, beginning to kiss her as she wiggled and rummaged, sinking her fingers into his hair to draw him even closer to her. Betty denied, too lost in the feel of Jughead's lips against her skin and his tongue wetting her neck to think clearly. Jughead spread her legs and thrusted, making the cold buckle of his belt hit her dripping folds. "I can't hear you, Betts ..."

Betty arched her back, raising her breasts to Jughead's face, who kissed them softly, as she let out a plaintive whimper. The waiting was killing her, and the pain in her groin did nothing but grew.

"No." She moaned. Jughead almost lost his mind with the sweet sound that escaped her lips; a prayer, a confession, a surrender to the carnal desire. It made his blood boil.

Jughead licked his way up her neck, leaving delicious red marks on her skin. Then he brought his warm breath to her ear and whispered, "You know what you did wrong, Betts?"

Betty swallowed and again denied, curious to know what would be his punishment this time.

Jughead licked his lips, making sure that Betty heard them wetting wet (maybe with the intention of sending her sweet fantasies for future nights) and slid his hand back down her legs,  winding slowly and torturously. The next thing Betty felt was his thumb putting pressure on her clit through her panties. "I can't hear you ..." he hissed, stroking the earlobe with his teeth.

Betty arched her back again, this time letting out a soft cry of surprise, filling her lungs with air.

He didn't even move it, just lightly pressed the bundle of nerves. And yet that was more than enough for Betty to be even wetter.

"No Juggie ..." breathed Betty, clinging to him as if he were the only stable thing in the world.

And, in a certain sense, he was.

"You challenged me, Betts, remember I told you not to play with fire?" Jughead whispered, moving away to look at Betty in the eye; her precious emerald green eyes now looked jade. Her cheeks were flushed, and her mouth was half open. Betty let out an innocent and suffocated "yes." "So that's why you're a bad girl ..."

Betty made a point of rubbing her pelvis against his, in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure between her legs, but Jughead moved away as if she was boiling oil.

"Bad girls deserve punishment, Betts, do you think you deserve relief?" Jughead inquired, arching his eyebrows.

Betty moaned in protest, bringing her hand to her spot for relief. Jughead, however, had other plans for her.

He grabbed her wrist firmly, making her protest and frown.

"No relief, Betts." Jughead warned, drawing a half-sided smile. "Not even tonight, when I can't see you."

Betty watched in frustration as Jughead stepped away from her and disappeared into the crowd, letting the door close behind him.

_Son of a bitch._


	33. This isn't a chapter, just an update

Hello my little sweeties! 

Before you throw me rocks, I wanted to apologize for not updating >~< at first I took a breal bc of my exams, then I couldn't find inspiration... It was all a huge vicious spiral. I've barely written a single word these months, so don't take it personal :(

Anyways, I'll try to come back with this story and I'll try to male it up to you by posting today. 

 

But, as I said,  I'll try xD 

 

I've been focusing too much on writing my novel that I barely stepped out of my room, so my apologies. 

 

Love you all lots, 

 

Rain. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, in this story the Southside isn't part of Riverdale. It's actually pretty far from Riverdale. Betty made sure she was as far from that living hell as possible. 
> 
> That was all for now ❤ hope you guys enjoy the story!!


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